Once A Weasley
by Seasonal Dreamer
Summary: After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back. Read and review please! :
1. You and I

**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! Well, I've finally stopped nit-picking at this story and decided to put it up! I hope you like it! And it's dedicated to **runeaglerun** for her always fantastic reviews :)

Read and review please and thank you!

**Disclaimer: **Yes. I own Harry Potter because obviously my name is J.K. Rowling ;)

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **Hmmm...I'm thinking K+, but if anyone thinks that the rating's wrong please let me know :)

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><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**You and I**

_'Without you, there's no reason for my story.  
>And when I'm with you, I can always act the same.<br>Forever, yeah, put together,  
>We can make it better."<em>

_**~ 'You and I,' Anarbor**_

"Oi, George," came a familiar yet annoying-at-the-moment voice. "Get up you git, or we'll miss the game. We're already pushing it as it is."

George groaned, burying his face back in his pillow and ignoring his twin's instructions. Sunlight had long since streamed into their dormitories and Fred seemed bent on making as much noise as possible and it was making it harder and harder for George to block it out. "Go away," he murmured back, trying to regain his peaceful slumber. "The team can live without me for a few more moments."

Something large and heavy suddenly landed on George's body, causing a surprised yelp to emit from the ginger's mouth. Fred beamed down, sitting on top of him and shaking his brother's shoulder. "I'm doing this for your own good, mate. You know Angelina will rip your head off if you miss it." Angelina was the Captain of their Quidditch team ever since Oliver Wood, their old Keeper, left Hogwarts. And she was just as strict as he had been, if not more so.

"Gerroff me Fred," George groaned, attempting to shove the ginger on top of him on to the floor with little success. He _was_ at a disadvantage.

"Will you get dressed?" Fred replied in a very good exasperated impression of their mother, complete with her signature stern look and all. "Or will I have to dangle you from the windows again?"

George laughed, finally pushing him off with a thump. "Alright, alright you prat, gimme a minute."

Fred grinned triumphantly and began gathering his things while his twin got dressed. Today's match was one they especially needed to win. Their Gryffindor team was playing against the always hated Slytherin team. They could _not_ lose to them. First of all, they'd never hear the end of it even though they'd beat them a million times. And second, it'd be a real blow to their pride.

George eventually made himself decent enough to go out in public and the two dashed out of their towers and through the corridors. They raced past a certain Argus Filch who seemed a bit taken a back at first before he started shouting and chasing after them. "Weasleys!" he croaked furiously, hobbling along. "Get right back here this instant!"

"Sorry Filchy," Fred called sarcastically. "We'd love to stay-"

"-but we're in a bit of a hurry," George finished. They both cackled as they heard Filch shout profanities at them, huffing and puffing at his mild exertion.

They burst through the front doors and sprinted as fast as they could to the Quidditch pitch, noting anxiously a certain Gryffindor Captain pacing the field. "Where were you?" Angelina shouted, her eyes blazing. "We're about to start any minute!"

"Sorry, but _this_ one," Fred jabbed his thumb in George's direction. "Wouldn't get out of bed." Angelina turned to glare at his twin as they entered the tent.

"Oi, no fair," George countered. "Sellout."

The entire team turned to smirk at their two Beaters arguing. The other positions on the team were quite simple. Harry was their Seeker, Katie and Alicia were their Chasers along with Angelina, and Ron (their younger, bothersome brother) was their new Keeper.

_"Just get dressed!" _Angelina roared.

"Yes ma'am," the two saluted her before opening their shared locker with faint murmurings of _'That's mine you git,'_ or _'Shove off.'_

"Anyway," their Captain remarked in a pointedly aggravated-sounding way. "Now that Fred and George have _finally_ joined us, I want to say a few words." Everyone save for the two dressing Weasleys gave Angelina rapt attention. "Look everyone, this is the first game of the season and as you know, every game counts towards our chances of winning the cup. We haven't lost the championship for the past two years, and I reckon we've got the best damn team Gryffindor has ever seen." That earned a good number of cheers and whistles from the players. "Now let's show these amateurs-"

"Don't forget ruddy idiots," Fred supplied helpfully.

"And dodgy, manky, muppets," George included. There were faint chuckles chorusing throughout the dressing room.

Angelina actually smiled at the comments and rephrased, "Let's show these ruddy muppets what we're made of!"

Everyone got up with a round of applause as they all grabbed their broomsticks and trodded on to the pitch.

"Well, that went well," George grinned.

"Fred, George, a minute," Angelina called to them.

"Spoke too soon, I suppose," Fred grumbled as they stopped mid-step and whirrled around.

"I just want to let you know that the Slytherin team's has some new players," she informed. "Seems they're putting Crabbe and Goyle as their Beaters this game, so I'd keep an eye out for them. According to Harry they're built like a mule."

"Probably smell like one too," Fred scoffed. "No worries Angelina, we got it covered."

"Good," she replied seriously. "I'm counting on you guys, we don't need an injury to destroy our chances of winning." She turned to walk away before she stopped and said as an after thought, "And keep them as far away from Harry as possible. He's the best Seeker we've got and we don't stand a chance without him." She then ran to where the rest of the team was heading, leaving the twins to stand there by themselves.

"Good thing they're Malfoy's cronies, eh Fred?" George muttered to his brother under his breath, nodding his head towards Malfoy conversing secretly with the Beaters. He didn't like the look of this at all.

"Hey you lot! Get over here!" Katie hissed loudly from where Angelina stood impatiently waiting for them.

They scurried over as Madam Hooch said sternly, "Now I want a nice clean game, all of you." She gave the Slytherin team an especially hard look. When they all nodded, she continued, "Captain's shake hands."

"Looks like he's trying to crush her hand," Fred whispered in a hushed tone. George agreed, not liking how this game was starting already.

"Everyone mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch cried.

The twins sung their legs over their broomsticks and rose into the air, feeling the welcomed rush of adrenaline and freedom to be back in their element. "Ready...three, two, one..." Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and the game was on.

Green and red uniforms all started to blend together as George kept a watchful eye out for any Bludgers zooming towards a player, particularly Harry. He lost Fred in the sea of people, but he knew he'd be doing the exact same thing. All the players struggled for the Quaffle, bumping, shoving and dodging the opposing team as each side attempted to score the first goal.

Luckily, Katie seemed to have a firm hold and was shooting towards the goal. Unfortunately, so was Crabbe.

"And it's Katie Bell with the Quaffle!" came the Commentator, Lee Jordan's voice. "And she - LOOK OUT, THAT'S A BLUDGER!"

Fred lunged forward with his bat, swinging forcefully and connecting with the Bludger at the last moment so it spiraled away from Katie and towards Malfoy, giving her an advantage. He breathed heavily, surprised at how hard it came towards them, and it unnerved the Beater how strong the goons were. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Fred after he avoided the Bludger, who smirked mockingly and gave a wave before flying off.

"Nice shot from Fred Weasley, one of the Gryffindor Beaters. That'll teach them to attack a Gryffindor, the slimy-"

"Jordan!" came Professor McGonagall's furious voice. _"How_ many times do I have to tell you to keep your commentary unbiased! You can be replaced you know!"

"Right, I'm done," Lee hurriedly fixed.

Fred started flying around, sending Bludgers as best he could towards Grabbe and Goyle, praying they'd get knocked off their brooms and rolling away when a Bludger was aimed at him. It seemed these two new Beaters were rougher then he thought.

"It's Alicia Spinnet with the Quaffle! Oh, but Montague's heading right for her - BEAT HIM ALICIA!"

George, meanwhile, started diving towards Harry, whom he wasn't surprised to be the next target, and bumped him slightly out of the way, hitting the blasted ball towards the closest Slytherin so it wouldn't crack Harry's head open. "Close one, Harry!" he shouted.

A bit startled by the contact, Harry hurriedly shouted out a 'thanks' before speeding away, already on the trail of the Snitch it seemed.

A sudden roar of voices coming from the Gryffindor's end alerted him that they had just scored ten points. Beaming, George pounded his fist into the air, seeing Fred doing the same, before hurrying off.

"It's ten-nothing Gryffindor!" Lee cheered.

The rest of the game blurred by, both twins so busy beating away the Bludgers that they were barely aware of who scored what and how many points they were up. All they knew was that they were winning, much to their delight.

However, just as George was celebrating yet another goal by Gryffindor, he noticed Harry just behind a flash of gold, and a rather nastily approaching Bludger just behind Harry. Panicked, he flew as fast as he could towards him, painstakingly aware of how close it was to their Seeker's head. "Harry!" He cried, lurching forward only to find that Goyle had gotten a hold of his bat. "You bloody git!" George shouted furiously as Goyle wrenched it away and flew off, smirking maliciously.

Fred heard George's angry call and found him continuing to sprint after Harry...without a bat? "George!' Fred yelled, alarmed at what his twin seemed about to do. He took off after him, terror in his throat. _That stupid, stupid idiot!_

But George was not going to let a damn Bludger hit by Malfoy's possy of all people do what Voldemort repeatedly failed to do. He shoved Harry out of the way while doing a barrel roll to avoid being hit by the Bludger himself.

Fred breathed a sigh of relief as he flew in closer, promising to beat George himself for his idiocy, before horror struck him again. _"George, look out-!"_

But it was too late. A completely different Bludger that Goyle, with his two bats, somehow managed to hit with troll's strength flew towards him and smashed him in the head with a sickening, echoing crack.

There was a brief milisecond when the Bludger connected with George and his face morphed from his victory smile to a look of shock and agony before he slumped over. Unable to balance while unconscious, George fell off his broom with rather large gasps and cries from the crowd.

Fred immediately dove for his twin's body, leaping off his broom so he dangled by one hand as he grabbed George around the middle before he got flattened into the ground. His heart hammered against his chest, blinding fear terrorizing his entire being.

"THAT BLOODY, GOOD FOR NOTHING BAS-" Lee roared over head, seeing the attack. Professor McGonagall didn't even reprimand him for swearing, as she seemed to be doing the same thing. "- CHEAP SHOT! THAT'S A FOUL ON THE GRYFFINDOR BEATER IF I EVER SAW ONE! HOW DARE THOSE -"

It sickened Fred to see blood flow freely and quickly from his twin's head as he somehow tilted the broom downwards to lower them down. All he could think was, _Oh my God..._

His arms trembled as the other team mates rushed forward to help, but he wouldn't let go of him. He couldn't let George be taken from him now. Not now. So they simply helped keep Fred aloft as they decended slowly, feeling like all the air had been knocked out of him.

He collapsed on the ground, hugging his twin's body to him in shock as the warmth of the blood wet his hands. _Y-You can't...George...don't...don't leave me! _He lifted his brother's lolling head, unaware of how Ron and Harry shook beside him and everyone else seemed to crowd around. _This isn't happening...not George...not us...dammit you won't take him!_ He growled, holding him fiercely and protectively closer. Like he could somehow ensure his twin's survival by simply pressing his body into his chest.

"Out of my way!" Madam Hooch shrieked in a commanding voice, pushing her way through the circle of people.

"My fault," Harry gaped. "This is all my fault."

Fred didn't even bother to acknowledge his remark as Madam Hooch attempted to pry George away from his brother. "No!" Fred screamed, knowing he looked downright off his rocker but not caring in the least. This was his _twin._ His best friend, his other half, his everything in nearly every way. They would not take him away, and by God he meant it. "Don't touch him," he snarled.

"F-Fred, let her help," Ron said shakily, looking like he was at an utter loss at what to do.

The ginger glared with all the force he could muster at his treacherous younger brother. He didn't understand! Fred could not bare to leave George alone now, when this had happened when they had been separated. "Let me come at least," Fred demanded, giving everyone a look that clearly dared anyone to tell him otherwise. "Now."

"But the game," Angelina insisted.

"The game will be rescheduled," Madam Hooch replied grimly, noting Fred's dead seriousness and at the fact that without both their Beaters the Gryffindors would be in a lot of harm. She quickly conjured up a stretcher and began the careful transference of George on to it.

"Oh look, one of the Weasels got himself bloodied up," a voice sneered from beyond the worried crowd.

Everyone whirrled around to find Malfoy leering at them with his two cronies at his side. Fred had never been so full of blind rage. He shot up and lunged towards them, wanting to kill the lot of them so badly it was a physical ache. How _dare_ they? Fred didn't need a wand to inflict damage. Those bastards were going to pay dearly for what they did to his brother.

But before he got his chance, Alicia and Katie grabbed hold of his arms, temporairily preventing him from fullfilling his wish. _"You!"_ he spat. _"Lemme go! I'll murder them, I'll bloody murder every single last one of them!" _he roared, withering against their grasps so much that Angelina had to step in as well. His insides burned and he could barely see straight.

"Shove off Malfoy," Ron barked, his fists clenched together, Harry red with fury by his side.

"Why?" He smirked. "Afraid we might've been too much for ickle Georgie to handle?" Crabbe and Goyle guaffawed beside him, egging him on. "Had to pick one of you Mudbloods off anyway, why not go for one that has a copy?"

That snapped whatever highly strung cord there was in Fred, and with an incredible amount of strength he broke free from his team and tore towards him, accompanied by Harry and Ron. They all jumped on all three of them, punching and kicking, and trying to do the very best damage they possibly could.

_"That's quite enough!" _a shrill voice sounded throughout the pitch. A shiver ran down everyone's spine, for they all knew who that voice belonged to.

Professor Umbridge stopped the floating stretcher containing George's limp body from leaving, his head still leaking blood, as she asked in her sickly sweet tone, "_Hem hem. _Now what is going on here?"

Panic coursed through Fred's veins again as he saw George simply lying there, bleeding to death. "Let him go!" he pleaded desperately. "Let him go to the Hospital Wing." He never imagined he'd be reduced to this infront of _her,_ but here he was.

"I think not Mr. Weasley," she smiled. "Not until I know what is going on." He'd kill the bloody lot of them, Fred decided, for doing this to George. His twin never deserved any of this, but they sure as hell did. By the time he was done with them, they'd be begging _him_ for mercy.

"Dolores," Madam Hooch interupted worriedly. "The boy needs to go to the Hospital Wing now, he's losing quite a lot of blood-"

"Madam Hooch, did you hear what I said?" Professor Umbridge asked calmly with her stupid smile still on her face.

"Well, yes, but-"

"But nothing," she replied in her high voice. "I said he will not be going to the Hospital Wing until I know what is going on."

Madam Hooch's nostrils flared. "With all do respect, _miss_ Umbridge_,_ you are not the Head Mistress of this school! So if you will excuse me, I will excort Mr. Weasley and his team to the Hospital Wing!" And with that she shoved past her, ushering for the Gryffindor team to follow.

Fred, who had been frozen in stuttering, heart stopping terror, quickly snapped out of his paralysis and hopped off of the Slytherins along with Harry and Ron who lied moaning on the ground.

Professor Umbridge's face turned red and she ordered in a forced sugary sweet voice, "Madam Hooch, I do insist that-"

But Madam Hooch paid no attention to her. She whisked George away as fast as she could, Fred running alongside the stretcher, unable to keep his eyes off his dying twin.

They raced up the steps, Harry, Ron, and the rest of the team close behind, and burst right into Madam Pomfry's Hospital Wing. She was startled at first, but then she gasped, "Oh sweet Merlin," and rushed over to them. "What happened?" But she quickly directed the stretcher over to one of the beds. "Nevermind, nevermind!" The urgency in her voice scared Fred to the core.

"Will he be okay?" he choked, kneeling beside George's bed with tears stinging his eyes. He looked lifeless. _Please be alive, please be alive Georgie!_

"I can't know for sure," she frowned worriedly, waving her wand over his head. She said no more as she concentrated, occassionally, sifting through bottles of medication as she preformed the task.

Fred stood up and fell into a chair, his hands covering his face as he leaned his head back. This wasn't happening. It couldn't. It was just a horrible nightmare. He could feel the sympathetic looks boring into him from his teammates, but he paid them no attention. _No one_ knew how he was feeling right now.

When he heard the rustle of Madam Pomfry's clothes moving away, he opened his eyes hurriedly to stare at the bandaged skull of his brother, still clearly unconscious.

"That's all I can do for now," Madam Pomfry sighed. "At least the skull will mend while he's asleep, it's painful to grow bones back." Harry winced at his own memory of it back in his second year, but chose to say nothing.

"Will he live?" Fred demanded panickally. Everyone stared at Madam Pomfry and held their breath.

"I would think so, yes," she said confidently, making Fred so relieved he nearly fainted or cried. "But there might be brain damage," she said softly before leaving.

Fred's jaw went slack as he whipped his head back over to his beloved twin's body. _Brain damage?_


	2. When I'm Gone

**Author's Note: **Thank you to **ChocolateMnMs**,**** ilovefi123****,**** Bookwormiie****,**** Pinkranger888****,**** The Walls of Jericho****,**** and Bellephont****for reviewing! I'm so happy you all liked it! :D So, here's the second chapter :) Read and review please! :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. But I do own this story :)

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+ :)

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><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**When I'm Gone**

_'Everything I am, and everything in me,  
><em>_Wants to be the one you wanted me to be...  
>...I'm roaming through this darkness,<br>__I'm alive but I'm alone.  
><em>_And part of me is fighting,  
><em>_But part of me is gone.'_

**~ 'When I'm Gone,' 3 Doors Down**

Fred only ever left his brother's side to go to the loo. No other reason, not even to eat. Of course, people would sneak him food and such, but he would never go down to get it himself. He jumped at every tiny movement of George's hair or slight hitch in his breathing. Fred merely sat there, sometimes whispering words he hadn't said enough to him or simply combing his fingers through his bangs in a rhythmic pattern. People stopped by when they could to see how he was doing, but so far, after three days, George still hadn't awoken.

It worried Fred terribly, so much so that he started to look as bad at his twin. His own red hair was unkempt and unruly, and his face seemed to have taken on an even paler shade of skin than he'd had before. He was still dusty, dirty and probably rather foul smelling, but Fred never once cared about those things. All he cared about was that he'd be there when George opened his eyes.

Madam Pomfry, however, seemed to think otherwise. "Mr. Weasely," she said in that strict manner of hers. "You really have to go."

Fred gave the woman a bewildered look. "Why?"

"Mr. Weasely, I'm sorry, but I cannot wind up having both of you in here, and at the rate you're going at, you will." She clucked her tongue in a disapproving way as she looked him over. "Go clean yourself up and get a decent meal in you." She wagged her finger. "You will not be permitted back up here until you do."

The blue eyed ginger gaped. She wasn't seriously kicking him out? "But-"

"No 'buts' Mr. Weasely." She all but picked the boy up and dragged him outside of the Hospital Wing, and he was _not_ too pleased by it. "Besides, tomorrow is Monday. You cannot be here all day while you have classes." Her face soften a bit before she added, "I know this is hard for you, but George will wake up when he is ready. There is no need to waste away." And with that, she shut the door, more or less, in his face.

Fred was still in shock. It all happened so fast he didn't realise he was outside until George was no longer in plain view. His throat seized up and he started banging on the door. "Madam Pomfry, let me in," he pleaded, but he got no response. Didn't she realise what kind of things happened when he and George weren't near each other? Didn't she know that whenever anything bad happened to the Weasley twins, it happened when they were separated? When they weren't right beside each other? Could she not _see_ that?

He continued to pester her though, and if it wasn't for his other friend and Commentator Lee Jordan walking by, he never would've left.

"Blimey, Fred, you look terrible," Lee declared immediately, looking surprised to see him in this state. "Where've you been?"

Fred didn't answer, but simply continued to gaze at the door like he was having a staring contest with it. _Open up, open up, open up,_ he silently ranted, ignoring his friend altogether. Lee shook his head and grabbed his arm, yanking him from his reverie and pulling him away. "C'mon mate, let's go. It's lunch time."

Numb, Fred allowed himself to be dragged into the Great Hall and plopped down at the table. He didn't touch the food lying before him and simply stared into space. _What if George isn't the same as he used to be? What if George blames me for the accident?_

"Oi, Earth to Fred," Lee waved his hands in front of his face. "Say something, mate, you're freaking me out."

But Fred didn't know what to say, so he simply gave a weak smirk and replied, "Something."

Lee rolled his eyes. "Glad to see your sense of humour hasn't been affected." But he sombered up instantly. "How's George doing?"

Fred looked down at his plate and poked at his food moodily. "Still hasn't woken up."

There was a moment of silence as Lee chewed this over before he responded brightly, "Ah, no worries Fred, he'll wake up eventually. He's probably dying right now to get back on his broom, just you see." He leaned back and stretched, plastering a mischievous smile on his face. "No use hanging 'round here, eh? Let's go see what good ol' Snape's up to."

Fred felt saddened to say that he wasn't particularly in the mood. Pulling pranks just wasn't the same without plotting them out with George first. Often, George's input was what saved them from making a mistake on more occassions than Fred would like to admit to. Lee was loads better than most people, but they just didn't have that _connection_ like he and George had_. _The could read each other's minds and finish each other's sentences.

But still, he felt obligated to muster up his knack for rule breaking and answer, "Why not?"

Lee, enthusiastic about Fred's willingness, all but ran out of the Great Hall and down the corridors for Snape's dungeon. "What'd you reckon we should pull?" Lee inquired. "Dungbombs?"

"Out of those."

"Ah," Lee snapped his fingers. "How 'bout Stink Pellets? We got any o' those left?"

Fred reached into his pocket, grinning a bit, and pulled out a few. "We do."

The dreadlocked boy raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Do you always carry those around with you?"

The familiar twinkle seemed to reappear in Fred's eyes. "Only for emergencies such as these."

Lee snicked as they crept along the walls. "Know where he is?" he whispered.

"Probably still in the Great Hall," Fred mouthed, inching closer. He took out some of his pellets and made to throw them in-

"Don't," came a dodgy voice. "Even think about it, Mr. Weasley."

Fred and Lee whirled around, eyes wide, to find Severus Snape leering down at them. "How did you-?" Fred gaped.

"Next time," Snape walked forward, cloak billowing out behind him. "You might want to be a bit more careful. Fifty points from Gryffindor. Now get out of my sight before I give you both a week's detention."

The two friends groaned quietly as they scampered away. "Did you know he wasn't in the Great Hall?" Fred asked.

Lee shook his head, still looking bemused. _George probably would've known,_ Fred sighed as they headed up to the Common Room.

"Password," the Fat Lady drawled, waving her hand lazily.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," Fred said dully, watching with little interest as the door swung open.

"Fred!" Hermione cried when her eyes landed on the ginger. Harry and Ron who were sitting beside her, not uncommon for them, whipped their heads around.

They rushed over to him, seeming to ask him a billion questions at once. Like, _'Is George getting any better?', 'Have you been with him this whole time?', 'Has he woken up yet?', 'Is he still alive?' _That last one touched a nerve in him.

"George is still bloody unconscious and breathing, now will you excuse me to take a shower?" Fred snapped, pushing past the three of them. He stormed up the stairs, leaving everyone present shocked by his outburst. He felt a little bad for jumping down their throats, but he was just a little high strung. The trio would just have to deal.

The entire half hour that he spent in the shower were stressful instead of relaxing. The more time he spent away from his brother, the more anxious he got. _What if something happened while I'm over here? What if he wakes up and thinks I didn't bother to look in on him? What if there _is_ something wrong with him? _The more what-if's his frazzled brain conjured up, the more scared he got. Which was an extremely unusual feeling. He didn't normally get scared. The last time, he thought, was when Ginny had been taken down into the Chamber of Secrets. Nearly two or three years ago. And before that, the last time had to be when he and George were seven and George got himself lost in the forest beyond their house and Fred couldn't find him. Other than that, Fred was fearless. Didn't care about threats from teachers, lectures from Mrs. Weasley, - wait, scratch that, Mrs. Weasley was bloody terrifying- Quidditch matches, pulling stunts...nothing. Not even when he wanted to enter the Triwizard Tournament.

But here he was now, quivering slightly with thoughts of his twin's situation. He exhaled deeply as he turned off the tap, drying himself quickly with a towel and changing into fresh clothes. Madam Pomfry couldn't possibly turn him away now.

When he emerged back into the Common Room, he made straight for the exit. But Harry stood in front of him. "Fred?" he said in a guilty tone.

"Yeah?" he responded gruffly, a little peeved that he was blocking his way.

"Look I'm..." he gave him an apologetic glance. "I feel horrible about George. I'm really sorry, it was entirely my fault. If I had only seen-"

"Did you send the Bludger at his head?" Fred interupted.

"Well, no-"

"Then you have nothing to be sorry for," Fred replied firmly, giving him a slight wink to ease the tension and tone of his voice. "Don't worry 'bout it, mate." And with that he clapped him on the shoulder and side-stepped around him, making for the Hospital Wing.

He opened the door and stepped inside, seeing a sleeping George in the exact same position as when he'd left him. It gave him a twinge of happiness that he hadn't missed George's reawakening, but it mostly made his heart plummet.

Fred rushed forward and sat himself down in front of George, watching his deep breathing. _Wake up George._

* * *

><p>"Mr. Weasley! Mr. Weasley, wake up!" an urgent but ecstatic voice broke through the ginger's foggy mind.<p>

"Whazzamatter?" Fred mumbled, jerking out of his apparent sleep. His face had been propped up on the railings of the bed by his hand, his mouth hanging open. He barely registered that the sound had come from Madam Pomfry before he noticed what she was talking about.

_"George!"_ he cried, leaping out of his chair to lean towards his brother's face, who had started to give the appearance that he might open his eyes.

"Mmmsemenph," George murmured incoherently, his eyelids twitching a bit before he slowly peeked upwards. His arm shot out to block the light and he seemed entirely confused.

Fred, for the first time in his life, could not speak. He simply grabbed George and pulled him into a rib-crushing hug. But George instantly wrenched himself away, looking at Fred like he lost his mind. "Uh, who're you?"

The twin ginger stared at him for a moment before he grinned the first true grin he had in a while. "Really funny, George."

George looked to his right to see who was next to him, seemingly lost. "Who's George?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Right, we get it. You got hit on the head. Give it up."

"Oh dear," Madam Pomfry breathed. Fred shot her a curious look as George narrowed his eyes accusatorily at him. "He...doesn't seem to remember anything."

"What is going on?" George demanded, obviously frustrated. But he suddenly grabbed his bandaged head, moaned, and fell back against his pillow. Fred whipped his head worriedly to his brother to find him pale and clearly in pain.

"He...doesn't remember a _thing?"_ Fred gaped. _"Nothing?"_

"George, what's the last thing you remember?" Madam Pomfry asked the boy in the bed gently.

"Why do you keep calling me George?" the ginger snapped. "I don't ruddy know who George is."

Fred's eyes went wide. "Oh dear," Madam Pomfry repeated unhappily. "His entire memory is gone."

* * *

><p>It took a full two hours to persuade George Weasley about who he was. He didn't seem too convinced about Fred being his brother until he saw the pair of them in the mirror, one face pleading, the other skeptical. However, he couldn't deny the fact that they were absolutely identical after that.<p>

When they told him about where he was, he actually attempted to get up and leave, claiming that they were off their rocker and he was going to go find someone with a bit of sense. For some reason, Fred seemed to be able to calm him down better than Madam Pomfry. Perhaps it was due to the fact that George now knew that they were twins, whereas Madam Pomfry was just a random person. The two had to demonstrate numerous times with their wands, though, before George even allowed the idea to become an option.

"So, what you're saying is, is that I'm a twin of a family of eight, I'm a wizard going to a magic school, and I lost my memory due to an incident on a broomstick playing a game called Quidditch," George remarked in a deadpan voice. "Oh, and that our little brother is friends with a fifteen year old who's supposed to destroy the darkest wizard of all time just because he's got a wonky little lightning bolt scar on his forehead."

"Er, yeah, pretty much," Fred responded warily. He never quite realised how odd it might sound to someone who didn't remember any of these things.

George buried his face in his hands. "I am in the nut house, aren't I?"

Madam Pomfry gave him a sympathetic look. "This is all very overwhelming, I'm sure."

Fred, worn down a bit, suddenly came up with an idea. "Can't you just restore his memory?" he asked excitedly. "Like when people have the 'Obliviate' spell cast on them?"

The lady shook her head no. "I'm afraid I can't. This is brain damage, and it's not something I can fix. You'll just have to wait for the rest of his memory to return on its own."

"But it will return, won't it?" Fred demanded. He didn't care if he sounded rude; he wanted his brother back.

It scared him a bit when she didn't answer.

"Can I go now?" George interupted, seeming cross. "Or are you two not done talking about me like I'm not in the room?"

"Can you stand?" Fred asked him cautiously, keeping his concerned face on.

"Yes, I can bloody well stand," he retorted, swinging his feet over the side of the bed and launching himself up. However, he swayed dangerously and nearly toppled over when Fred caught him.

"Obviously you can't," he remarked, almost amusedly.

George glowered at him, and Fred couldn't remember a time when he had been this furious with him. It pained him to see it. "I'm leaving," he growled, trying to get away from his brother's grasp.

"And where exactly would you go?" Fred inquired angrily. "You couldn't even remember your own blasted name." He ran a hand through his hair, and his expression instantly softened. "Just let me help you, George," Fred pleaded. "Stop jumping down my throat. I didn't _do_ anything."

George sighed, sitting back on his bed and suddenly looking weak and vulnerable. "You'd be frustrated too if people you didn't know started telling you all these things and you didn't remember a damn thing about them."

Fred winced at his words. _People he didn't know._ "We grew up together," he said quietly. "We're brothers and best friends and could basically read each other's minds. We pull pranks, scrape a few good marks to advance on to the next year, and annoy the hell out of people. But they love us because we're funny. We're both Beaters on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and we've never been separated for more than a few hours." He looked imploringly into George's face, who had his eyes directed downward. "You _know_ me, George."

The ginger said nothing, playing with his bedsheets and careful to keep his eyes as far away from Fred's as possible. "Come on," Fred finally continued. "I'll show you around."

* * *

><p>It was highly unusual for Fred to have to guide his twin along behind him, clutching at his wrist so he wouldn't wonder off or fall or anything. Normally they walked together, side by side. Now, Fred was in the lead, somehow feeling more protective of him than he ever had. He glared at the passer-bys who gave them odd looks, as if daring them to say anything. Which, thankfully for them, no one did. Any remark about their abnormal behaviour would result in a swift kick to the you-know-where.<p>

George seemed incredibly uncomfortable having his hand held by someone who, according to him, he only met a little while ago. Someone who apparently turned out to be his twin brother. However, he figured it was probably a good idea since every few feet he either almost tripped or wanted to go in a different direction to take a closer look at something, his eyes wide with awe. But Fred's hand was always there to tug him back to reality. Apparently he had somewhere specific in mind.

The identical ginger in front of him led him up what seemed like an endless flight of stairs (all of which seemed to move sporadically, scaring the knickers off of George) and up to a large portrait. George gave Fred an incredulous look. "You dragged me up all those steps to show me a painting?"

Fred smirked before reciting the password. His brother jumped horribly, nearly shouting, _"Bloody hell!"_ when the Fat Lady moved and swung the door open. George caught his breath before giving Fred a hard look. "Git."

He grimaced, forgetting how sensitive and distrusting this new George was, before he replied honestly, "Sorry. I'll warn you next time."

George didn't answer and simply walked in, mildly surprised to find a roaring fire and several comfortable-looking chairs on the red carpet. And that there were three younger people pouring over what looked like homework. "Where are-?"

"George!" they all seemed to cry at once, spotting him instantly and running towards him. Fred was helpless to stop them from squeezing the life out of him as their words all seemed to jumble together.

"Alright, alright you lot, let'em breathe," Fred shooed them off. "And before you ask any questions," he continued, seeing Ron open his mouth. Both Fred and George exchanged looks and braced themselves. "He, well...he can't remember anything."

George glanced down at his feet, shuffling them a bit. He really didn't want the whole world to know, but what was he going to do if someone he supposedly knew came up to them and he just stood there like an idiot?

"You mean he can't remember the accident," Hermione clarified.

"No," Fred replied gruffly. "I mean, he can't even remember who he is."

"But that's rubbish," Ron declared, his eyes bouncing between the twins. "Ain't it, George?"

He looked mightily uncomfortable and gave Fred a _Who are they?_ glance. Everyone saw it, however, and simply stared at him with their mouths open. George's eyes turned into slits and said irritatingly, "Planning on catching flies?" He stormed off, going up (thankfully) the right staircase to the boy's dormitory.

Fred gave the three of them apologetic looks before running after his twin. "Oi! George, where're you going?"

"I don't bloody know!" he yelled back, and when Fred caught up to him he found George lying on his back on a seventh year named Terry Silcur's bed. His hands were over his face and he seemed ready to jump out a window.

"George," Fred said softly, coming to sit beside him. "Are you alright?" _Stupid question, you prat. Does he look alright?_

"No," came George's sad and lonely muffled voice. "I don't know where I am and I don't remember anyone! I barely know who _I_ am!"

Fred tentatively placed a hand on his brother's arm, wishing the sorrow in his twin's tone to vanish at his touch. "Hey, it'll be okay. You're not alone, you know," he assured him gently. "I'll help you relearn everything you've forgotten. Soon, you'll be back to being the same old pain in the arse we all know and love." He grinned at the end of his sentence, happily seeing a small amused smile form on George's face from underneath his hands.

"I don't even know how long that's going to take, Fred." George finally said, his face still hidden, smile vanishing. That was the first time he had acknowledged Fred's name. "I'll only be a burden, and Merlin knows if I'll ever be the same anyways," he finished dejectedly.

"You _will_ be the same," Fred nearly growled. "I swear to you, you will be exactly the way you were before, and if not, I'll die trying." He was not going to give up on him, especially now when he needed him most.

The corner of George's mouth twitched. "Seems dramatic."

"Dramatic's my middle name," Fred laughed, and he was thankful to see George reveal his face again.

"Was I...were we good, you know, at jokes?" George asked after a few moments, sounding uncharacteristically feeble.

"The best," he replied proudly. "We aren't named the Kings for nothing."

George smiled the first real smile Fred had seen on his face, and it delighted him to see it.

"Oh, and by the way," Fred added, hearing footsteps on the stairs. "That's not your bed."


	3. All In All

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much to **romirola**, **Pinkranger888**, **hachoo**, and **ilovefi123** for your fantastic reviews on the last chapter! They make me happy :) haha but anyways, I hope you all like this one as well!

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own Harry Potter :( And never will be unless J.K. Rowling randomly wants to sell it to me :P

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**All In All**

_'__All in all it's just another day now,  
>Falling down, what you gonna do?<br>__Standing on top of the world tonight,  
><em>_No one's looking back at you.  
><em>_Stand tall, it's going on, it's going on,  
>It's going to be just fine,<br>You're holding on, holding on today.'_

**~ 'All In All,' Lifehouse **

George Weasley had the worst sleep in history. His head throbbed and ached at the dull moonlight illminating the dormitory behind his eyelids, making it difficult for him to keep silent. He tried his best, however; he didn't want to wake anyone up and he was sure Fred would overreact. It was just a headache.

However, unable to fight the infuriating pain at the base of his skull, he found himself becoming restless. Though, it was much too early to wake Fred up to take him wandering about the castle. _How hard could it be to find my way around?_ he wondered. _If I could do it before, I can do it now._ Besides, he'd have to be able to get around the castle on his own at some point. Fred couldn't always be there to watch his every move.

George quietly slinked from underneath his covers, his eyes focused solely on his slumbering twin so as not to disturb him. Still in his pajamas, he shoved his feet into rather cozy blue slippers before tip-toeing his way down the stairs and into what he found out to be called the Common room. The dying embers flickered lazily in the fire place, casting a slight orange glow along the walls.

Thankfully, there was no one else down there, though he hardly expected there to be. George moved ever so slowly towards the door, shooting nervous glances over his shoulder at every sound he heard until he managed to make it through the door.

The next hour was spent stumbling down a complicated series of corridors and stairs, making George steadily less sure of his ability of not getting lost. Especially when it was pitch black and some portraits seemed to make it their duty to point him in the wrong direction.

"Aha!" cried a sudden, booming voice. George whirled around, expecting to see a teacher or another student glaring at him. But all he found was never ending darkness. "What villain trespasses upon my private lands! State your business or draw your sword!"

George was utterly baffled. "I must be going mad," he muttered, turning to blindly continue on his way.

"Mad? Mad, you say! Stand and fight you mangy cur!"

"Who the devil is speaking?" George hissed, narrowing his eyes and attempting to evolve into a higher species so he could see in the dark. _Perhaps I'll get Fred to teach me a spell that'll turn me into a cat,_ he mused.

"It is I, Sir Cadogan of the noble heart!" the voice declared proudly.

"Well noble heart," George remarked dryly. "Any idea how to get back to the, er...Gree...Gren...Gruff...that tower?"

"Is the youngeon attempting to say Gryffindor, the brave, determined, resourceful founder of Hogwarts?" Sir Cadogan inquired.

"Yeah...yeah, that one," George said uncertainly. "At least...I think that one..."

"If you do not know the name, then you are no student!" Sir Cadogan, wherever he stood, shouted, causing George to wince and attempt to hush him up. However, he paid no attention to him and continued to rant, "You are trying to force entry into his tower! Draw, you dog! You scurvy braggart!"

"Oh, fine then," George spat, not up for a row this early in the morning. "I'll find it myself." He started off before he heard the man cry again suddenly, sounding purposeful.

"Wait! My mistake, good lad! Continue your quest up the next stairs to the third floor! The first door there is the one you seek!"

George didn't remember the tower being on the third floor, but who was he to disagree? He sure as hell had no idea where he was. Though his sudden change of attitude was a bit suspicious. "Erm...thanks."

"Farewell!"

The ginger groped along the wall until his feet hit the bottom of a step, nearly causing himself to trip and break his nose. Cursing under his breath, George carefully made his way up the hard steps, feeling his foot along to check if he was at the top or not. However, just as he seemed to near the top, the entire floor started to move, almost making him topple over again. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that.

When the stairs came to a stop, seemingly content in staying still for the next few moments, George hurried more quickly, hoping he was at the right destination. He didn't think he'd run into anyone else who'd direct him.

_"George!"_ a voice called for him, sounding a bit far off.

"Fred?" he whispered back. "Is that you?" There was a bright light from somewhere beneath him.

"Oh thank God," Fred breathed, scurrying along, following his lit wand. When his wand finally landed up his brother's pale face, he thought he might collapse with relief. So, instead he got angry. "What the bloody hell are you doing up here!"

"How'd you find me?" George asked curiously.

Fred twitched the piece of parchment with writing on it in his hand. "The Marauder's Map. Borrowed it from Harry, though I don't suspect you'd remember it."

"Who's Harry?" George wondered.

"Blimey George, he's the bloke with the scar," Fred said exasperately. "We gave him the map in the first place, but I panicked when I saw you were out of bed."

George opened his mouth to respond defensively, but his headache pounded much more furiously than before and he gripped his forehead, nearly buckling from the pain of it. Fred watched the display with alarm and clutched George's shoulders, crouching a bit to stare scaredly into his face. "George, are you okay? Do you need the Hospital Wing?"

"No," he murmured, trying his best to stay conscious. "I'm not going back there."

Fred's grip tightened. "Don't be a prat, George, you look like you're going to keel over! I'm taking you back."

George glowered at him, though he knew he meant well. "No." Fred bit back a retort, knowing it was no use to argue with his stubborn twin. "How'd you do that?" he asked, nodding his throbbing head at his wand.

"What? The light?" Fred glanced at his wand. "You say _'Lumos.'_ Good for wandering about the castle," he said wryly. "'Long as you know where you're going o' course."

George chose to ignore the jab and continued to question him. "Where are we?"

"Third floor," Fred replied. "Now that I think about it, we should get going. It's a dodgy place. Held some three headed dog up here a few years ago. Merlin knows what they're hiding now."

"Really?" George raised an eyebrow. "Some bloke named Sir Cadogan told me this was the way to the tower. Noble heart my arse."

"Sir Cadogan?" Fred repeated, surprised. "Don't listen to that lunatic, he's barking mad."

"Dare to say that again, you rogue!" a voice roared from behind them, making the twins jump.

"_Hem hem. _What do we have here?" Fred's heart plummeted and raged at the sickly sweet voice. He instantly moved to stand slightly in front of his brother as if shielding him from the sight. Dolores Umbridge with her awful pink attire came into view of the light from both her own wand, and Fred's. "Ah, I should not be surprised to find you..._people..._out of your beds." She made a girlish little click of her tongue as she looked them over in her degrading style.

He clenched his teeth, but said nothing. The last thing he needed was another detention so early in the year, especially by this woman. It was only late September afterall.

"Thank you Sir Cadogan," she said before turning back to the twins.

"My pleasure," he responded before his footsteops faded away. George's jaw went slack. _The bloody git, he set this all up._

"I think you Weasleys need to learn how to follow the rules," Umbridge smiled, fingering her wand like she was about to use it on them. "Or at least one of you needs to," she looked pointedly at George. Fred gaped. _She knows._

"Wait," George interupted, sounding a bit panicked, causing Fred to freeze. _Shut up George, shut up!_ "It wasn't Fred's fault, I got out of my bed and he came after me."

"Don't be stupid, George," he hissed through his gritted teeth. He found out from Harry what she did in her _'detentions,'_ and he didn't want his brother going there.

"Is that so." Umbridge's eyes landed on George as though they were trying to bore right into his mind. She had a malicious smirk on her face as she saw Fred's expression. "Well then, if that's the case then I do believe that it's only _just_ if only you serve detention. And for your brother as well, for making him break the rules too."

"What?" Fred snarled, his hands turning into fists. "He didn't make me do anything! You bloody know he can't remember the rules!"

"Make that triple detention for you George Weasley," Umbridge's sadistic grin grew larger, and Fred instantly caught on to her game. She was trying to punish him through ways of George. "And just so you don't try to switch with him, Mr. Weasley..." she waved her wand and George gasped slightly as a searing pain overtook his arm.

"What are you doing?" Fred demanded.

"Just a little mark on his hand," she replied airily. "It'll stay for as long as his detention lasts." The pain stopped with her words and both twins glanced down at George's hand. There was a black, curious yet intricate little design on it. It looked like something you'd find on wallpaper. "Now off to your beds before I double his entire sentence altogether!"

Fuming, Fred took hold of George's unmarked hand and sped as far away from the evil witch as possible. They hurried in silence and it wasn't until they got to the door to the Gryffindor tower did Fred blow up. "What were you doing back there?"

George looked surprised. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why did you open your big mouth!" He exclaimed, his face turning red. "Now she's going to bloody torture you, George!"

His face paled slightly, before restoring back to his original manner. "It's not you, is it?" he declared. "I was only telling the truth, you came after me and it was my idiocy that got us in this mess in the first place."

Fred ran a hand through his hair in a stressed sort of way. "I'd rather it be me, George!" he groaned, as if it were obvious. "The woman's a bloody sadist, and I..." he paused, swallowing a lump.

"You what?" George demanded, not noticing how hard this was for Fred.

"And I almost lost you once already!" George looked startled. Fred's tone sounded pained. "I don't want you to hurt anymore."

George stared at him with unfathomable eyes, not sure how to respond. He got the feeling that saying these kinds of things to each other was not a normal occurrence. Or that Fred had ever showed him how much he worried about him. So he, not sure what to say and not caring however awkward it may be, simply hugged him. Though a bit shocked by the display at first, Fred hugged back, feeling embarassingly emotional.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" The Fat Lady grumbled from behind them. _"Some_ of us are trying to sleep!"

* * *

><p>Despite George only realising that Fred was his brother the other day, he was quickly beginning to take a liking to him. After all, he was his twin, wasn't he?<p>

Daylight came far too early for the Weasley twins. Having collapsed on their beds as soon as they got into the dormitory, pushing all worries out of their mind for the moment, they barely got more than a few hours of sleep before the hustle and bustle of the other students woke them once again. They groaned in unison, trying to shut it out for a few more seconds.

"Oi, sleeping beauty, get out of bed."

"Oh go jump in a lake, Lee," Fred complained gruffly to his friend.

"Gladly," Lee replied, sitting on the corner of Fred's bed. "You know how I like the giant squid-" his voice broke off when he spotted a certain other ginger in the bed. "Merlin's beard, is that-?" At Fred's nod, he launched himself up and jumped on Fred's twin.

_"Oof!"_ George moaned.

Lee, grinning down on him, cried, "You're back!" George peered up at the unknown guy with dreadlocks, completely bemused. "You were starting to worry me, mate. God knows Fred was going mad himself," he chortled. Fred threw a pillow at his head.

"Was not, you git," he countered.

"Right," Lee rolled his eyes. "Anyways, George, we got a lot of pranking to catch up on, I mean, we seriously need to get cracking if-"

"Lee," Fred said loudly, giving him a pointed look. "He doesn't know what you're talking about. He doesn't even know who you are. He didn't even know who I was. He's lost his memory." He figured the blunt approach was the best one for delivering this kind of news.

The boy just about fell off the bed. "What?" Lee, now standing, looked between Fred and George, waiting for the punchline. "You can't be serious."

George gave the guy recently revealed to be named Lee an apologetic glance. "Sorry."

Lee looked absolutely uneasy. "They can't fix it?"

Fred shook his head, frowning. George felt uncomfortable, so he propositioned, "Um...you said something about breakfast?"

"Oh...oh, right," Lee stammered, still looking shocked. "Yeah, uh, get dressed and I'll...meet you in the Common room." He stumbled down the stairs in an awkward sort of walk, as though he hadn't properly learned to move his legs.

"Well that went well," George remarked dryly, not in such a good mood at the moment. "Do we have to go through this every single time? I mean, if we're as well known as you said we were, we might as well just make one giant announcement."

"And say what?" Fred asked, amused. "'Hey you lot, George has no idea who any of you are. Carry on.'"

"S'better then this a hundred times over," the ginger grumbled, searching for his clothes.

Fred had to agree with that. The look on Lee's face unnerved him too. They got dressed in silence, yet all of Fred's thoughts went back to Umbridge and George. It made him shake slightly with fury at the thought of what she would do, but there was nothing to be done. They could not switch places because of the blasted mark of George's hand, and knowing her, if they tried to copy the mark somehow, George would probably pay very dearly.

However, Umbridge had somehow found out about his lost memory. _Madam Pomfry probably alerted the teachers,_ he thought grimly.

George glanced warily at the stony figure of his twin, wondering what happened to make him so agitated. The two wandered downstairs to find Lee fidgeting on a chair, looking restless. "Shall we?" Fred remarked without emotion.

Lee stood and they all went down to breakfast. There were many gasps at the sight of George and they all attempted to more or less run him over before Fred told them to leave him alone rather rudely. But he couldn't help it; he was on edge. He noticed Umbridge watching them with her cruel little beady eyes and smiling like she was fully enjoying herself.

"What's the matter?" George asked under his breath, careful to not bring any attention to their conversation.

"Umbridge," Fred growled back, before he remembered he didn't know who she was. "The teacher who found us this morning."

"Ah," George whispered, but said nothing else. It bothered him slightly that Fred was that angry at his detention, and he hoped Fred didn't run into her or he might end up serving detention with him anyway.

However, as luck would have it, that was exactly who ended up waiting for them after they finished. Somehow, the toad snuck out before them and stood in her little pink outfit. "I will expect you tonight in my office, Mr. Weasley," she informed him in her candy-coated tone. George grabbed on to Fred's arm, restraining him in case he should act out if the look on his face wasn't enough of a hint.

"Fine," George answered shortly. "What time?"

"Oh, I should think seven would be sufficient. Your...brother can direct you," she smirked. Fred twitched underneath George's hand.

"And when will I be done?" the brother asked quickly, wanting to get Fred out of there as soon as possible.

"Why, when I think the lesson has...sunk in," she tittered, simply glowing with sinister excitement.

"You-" Fred snarled, but Lee covered his mouth. However he glared at Umbridge himself.

"Good thing Mr. Jordan is here, or you might end up joining your brother soon enough," Umbridge responded in a business-like tone, twirling around to leave.

"Get yourself together, mate," Lee commanded, both George and him releasing their hold.

"Sink in," he rumbled. "That bloody toad."

"Fred, I'll be okay," George rolled his eyes. Honestly, he was acting like a mother hen, and though it was touching and appreciated, he was fine. "C'mon, what class do we have now?"

* * *

><p>"Her office is this way," Fred muttered, leading his twin down yet another corridor. Today had been absolutely disasterous for George. Not being able to remember a thing, he was hopelessly lost when it came to his classes, and his headaches had been steadily growing worse. Though he wasn't about to admit that to Fred.<p>

When they reached the door, George turned to Fred and found him looking at him worriedly. So he smiled reassuringly and said, "I'll be okay. It's just detention right?"

Fred opened his mouth as if to contradict, but seemed to change his mind. "Just...get done quickly, okay?" Fred said gruffly. "Don't give her any reason to keep you longer."

George nodded and knocked on the door. "Come in," came her high pitched voice. He opened the door and stepped inside, leaving Fred alone in the hallway. "Ah, good that you showed up, Mr. Weasley," she told him approvingly. "Let me see your hand." George thrusted out his arm and she observed the mark carefully before motioning for him to sit.

A roll of parchment and a quill lay neatly on the other side of her large desk, accompanied by an equally large chair. Clearly for him. "I just write lines?" he asked, surprised. By the way Fred was going on about her, he expected more than that.

Her big, toothy smile grew large. "I want you to write: _"Rule breakers deserve to be punished."_

"That's it?" George blurted out. She said nothing as her eyes bored into him. Slightly unnerved, he picked up the quill and said, "What about ink?"

"I don't think you'll need it."

_Okay? _George shrugged and wrote, _'Rule breakers deserve to be punished.' _He stopped suddenly, however, when he saw the letters appear in his skin, as well as on the page in bright red, along with the searing pain, before they faded over. His mouth opened slightly.

"Problem?" she inquired hurriedly, still smiling.

"No," he said after a few moments, jaw locked as he bent over his paper. _Rule breakers deserve to be punished. _What a thing to have to write.

Blood ran freely from his hand, refusing to cover over anymore. It was curious, actually. His skin seemed to have given up. The pain from his hand was bad, but the headache was worse. It nearly blinded him, but he would not let it show; Umbridge would probably think it was her punishment that got to him.

George had no idea how long he cut those words into his hand, but somehow, he managed to finish the entire role of parchment. He dropped the quill and grasped his hand, fruitlessly attempting to staunch the flow of blood. His hand was paling by the minute. George stood up to go, but Umbridge remarked, "Where are you going Mr. Weasley? You're not finished yet."

"What?" George gaped. "But the role is full."

"Yes, but if I do recall correctly, there were _two _of you Weasleys out of bed." She beamed triumphantly. "Another role of parchment."

Without a word George sat back down and set to work on the new parchment that was placed in front of him. He worked much more cautiously, afraid that the cut would become so deep it would slice into the bone. Surely she'd let him go if that happened? Plus, there was also the fact that the sting was growing steadily worse, so much so that George bit his lip furiously to stop himself from crying out in pain.

It felt like years past by before George shakily finished the last line. "Done," he breathed, looking up at Umbridge with disdain. "Can I go now?" he asked forcefully. The blood had long since covered his legs and had moved to staining the floor. He tried to mop it up with his robes, but Umbridge stopped him.

She grabbed George's hand and peered at it, looking pleased, but a bit puzzled at the severity. "Seems your Quidditch injury has left your body less able to fight damage. Interesting. Same time tomorrow, Mr. Weasley."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am," she replied. "You have detention with me every night for three weeks. Now you may go."

George honestly didn't know how he'd survive.

* * *

><p>Read and review please!<p> 


	4. Camisado

**Author's Note: **Wow! The last chapter got a great response! :D Thank you to **Bookwormiie**, ****My-Toxic-Wings****,****Pinkranger888****, ****hachoo****, ****too lazy to log in****, **Magicgirl29**, **Moonlight900**, and **runeaglerun** for reviewing! And to everyone who put in on their favourites/story alerts :D They make me happy!

So, this is the longest chapter yet! :D And I wanted to get this out before the hurricane's supposed to hit tomorrow, so I've been working extremely hard to finish it! Hope you guys like it! :)

Oh and one of the reviews did bring up a good point. I do know that in the technical terms the Weasleys are not actually Mudbloods, but I just figured, given Malfoy's personality, that he really wouldn't be above calling blood traitors or just purebloods he didn't like Mudbloods :P So I'm sorry if that confused anyone! But I do really appreciate the feedback :)

To **Moonlight900**, Ginny as well as the other Weasleys will come into this story, but not really until much later so hold tight! :)

And to **runeaglerun**, that's so sweet of you! You made MY day! I'm so glad you liked it and I hope you continue reading!

**Disclaimer: **Do not own one little bit of the Harry Potter series, movies or books :P

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Camisado**

_'__Can't take the kid from the fight,  
><em>_Take the fight from the kid.  
><em>_Sit back, relax, sit back, relax again,  
><em>_Can't take the kid from the fight,  
><em>_Take the fight from the kid,  
><em>_Just sit back, just sit back.'_

**~ 'Camisado,' Panic! At the Disco**

George exited Umbridge's office to find Fred waiting for him. "Did you wait here all this time?" George asked, astounded.

Fred didn't answer as his face went stark white at the blood pooling from his brother's hand. "Merlin's beard," he breathed, running over to him. He took George's hand quickly and looked absolutely horrified. "This is worse than Harry's was."

The twin wrenched his hand away, wincing noticably. "It's no big deal, Fred, really."

But Fred was way past reason. His face went redder than George had ever seen, or ever remembered seeing, and he looked ready to commit murder. "Fred, don't-" George tried to say quickly, but he wasn't quick enough.

Fred burst into her office, and it sickened Fred to see George's blood on the floor. "You leave him alone, do you hear me? Let me serve his detention, but lay off him!" He slammed his hands on her desk as George scurried in after him. "He didn't know the rules! He didn't know any better!"

"Then you should have warned him." Umbridge responded sweetly.

_"It is not his fault!"_ Fred growled. "If anything, it's mine! Let me serve it if you're so bloody sadistic!"

"Fred!" George hissed. "Stop it!"

She looked calmly up at him. "I think not, Mr. Weasley. You seem immuned to detentions, but not to your brother. The way I see it, this way you both learn your lesson." She went back to what she was doing. George was a little relieved that Fred wouldn't suffer like he had.

Fred was so furious, so unbelievably irate that he had no idea how to display it. "You just made a big mistake, Dolores," he snarled. "Mark my words." And with that, he grabbed George's arm and pulled him away, absolutely fuming.

"Fred, you complete git!" George barked, pissed off. "What were you doing? You nearly ended up in the same boat as me!"

"That was the point George," he stormed. "I was trying to get you out of it!"

"By replacing me?" the ginger was astonished. "Are you mad? If you carry on at this rate you're going to get yourself bloody killed!"

"And so will you if she keeps making you do this!" Fred retorted loudly.

George looked his brother straight in the eye and said in a much calmer voice. "Don't worry about me, Fred. I may not remember, well, anything, but I can take a little pain." He smirked, gesturing towards his still bandaged head.

Fred's anger melted away as worry creeped in. "She's _torturing_ you, George, how do you want me to react?"

"By not reacting," George replied simply. "You'll make it this much harder for the both of us if you do, okay? It wasn't that bad," he smiled weakly. The blood still dripping, albeit more slowly, wasn't a very good back up for his statement.

"Let's get that cleaned up," Fred said under his breath. "You'll bleed to death at this rate." He glanced at the words carved into his skin. _Rule breakers deserve to be punished._ He gritted his teeth but chose to say nothing; he didn't want another row with his twin.

After promising that George would only be there long enough to bandage his hand, the two hurried long to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfry seemed rather shocked. But she had a policy of not asking how student's got injuries as long as they were healed properly. So she said nothing as she used some yellowish liquid to stop the bleeding and wrapped it in gauze.

"What time is it?" George asked on their way back to the dormitories.

"Nearly midnight," he said absent-mindly, looking like he was deep in thought.

George was surprised. He didn't think his detention lasted that long. They walked in silence the rest of the way. The only time one of them spoke was to tell the Fat Lady the password.

However, when they had settled their weary bodies into their beds, Fred suddenly decided to speak. "Hey, George, I've been thinking-"

"Shocker," George grinned.

Fred threw his pillow at his head like he had done to Lee. "Oi, shut it. Listen, I've been thinking that, well, we have Quidditch practice again this week, right?"

"If you say so."

"Right," Fred continued. "So, how about we go out an hour before it starts and kind of reteach you how to play?"

There was a shuffle of sheets as George squirmed awkwardly. "Um, I dunno, Fred. That's how I lost my memory in the first place, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but I mean, you loved it," Fred persisted. "And what happened was a one time thing, and besides, we really need you on the team."

"So you're telling me accidents don't normally happen while playing Quidditch?" George asked skeptically.

"Er, well, no-"

"And even though I have no idea how to fly a broom, you want to release a possessed ball on me whose job is to _try_ and knock me off?"

Fred felt bad. "I didn't th-"

"Let's do it," George said simply, tossing the pillow back at Fred.

* * *

><p>"I reckon I need to learn something before I fail out," George remarked as they got dressed the next morning. "I can't take another day of not knowing what the bloody hell people are talking about."<p>

Fred looked back at him as he buttoned up his shirt. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. I kind of just hoped your memory would come back by now."

George's eyes were downcast. "I think we can give up on that," he said quietly.

His twin stared at him for a second before walking over and putting an arm around George, squeezing him gently. "It will come back, Georgie. I promise, it will. But in the mean time, we should catch you up on all the spells you need to know." He gave him a crooked smile. "Though we won't have to worry ourselves on history. I don't think it'll matter which troll had a three year row over a half-eaten chicken leg."

George burst out laughing. "If that's what we've been studying then I'm glad I forgot it."

Fred grinned, then placed a mock somber expression on his face. "Though, I'm sorry to tell you that you will have to relearn potions. Severus Snape, the teacher, is a slimy git who'll find any way to fail you. And we've got him first period."

The ginger groaned. "Fantastic." But then he perked up, a sudden idea striking him. "Fred, can you show me some of the products we made at some point? I...want to learn how to do them again."

"Of course," Fred said immediately, surprised but ecstatic. "But first...potions."

* * *

><p>"I want you all," came the slow, lazy drawl of Professor Snape. "To brew a successful Draught of Living Death." George glanced around nervously at the interior of the classroom. It was a dark and musky dungeon, devoid of light and all things happy. He figured he shouldn't be that surprised, based on Fred's discription, but he never quite imagined this.<p>

And speaking of discription, Fred's had been bang on. Snape's black, oily hair was on the long side and came around his pale visage. He was tall and thin, but there was a permanent sneer on his face. If George could think of anyone who picked the wrong career as a teacher, Snape was definitely it.

"But we did that last year," Fred complained loudly. People murmured their agreements and all stared at Snape.

"Well then you should have no problem brewing it correctly this time around," Snape countered, coming forward to rest his hands on the Weasley's desk, his black robes billowing behind him. His eyes landed on George, however, as he continued, "Though I don't expect much from you, Mr. Weasley. Given your current," the corner of his mouth twitched, "disability."

The class all turned around to stare at George in confusion, who turned a little red. "I have no disability, _Professor,"_ he said darkly.

"Is that so," he sneered. "That's not what I was told from Madam Pomfry."

"There's nothing wrong with him," Fred snarled. "Maybe you need to get your facts straight before you go sticking your big nose in other people's business."

The class snickered and Snape's gaze turned cruel. "Detention, Mr. Weasley," he said quietly. "Tonight."

Fred opened his mouth to retort angrily when George kicked him from under the table. "Let it go," he hissed, rubbing his scarred hand subconsciously. It was this gesture more than anything else that stopped him.

"Did you hear him?" Fred growled as George opened his textbook. "Disability! _He's _the one with the disability!"

"Let's just get started," he murmured, looking a bit down.

Fred cast him a concerned glance. "Don't let it get to you, George, he doesn't bloody know what he's talking about-"

"Drop it," he snapped.

The ginger went silent after that, hoping his bad mood would subside quickly. And it did, for no sooner than a few minutes later, George was asking in a slightly amused voice, "How the devil do we do this?"

Appreciating the out, Fred smirked, "Don't ask me. Even after six years of this class I haven't learned a damn thing."

George chortled, "Well, c'mon then. Let's fail together."

* * *

><p>"Bravo," Snape gleamed. "You have made yet another disappointing product."<p>

The Weasleys simply stood there, smiling a little at what they'd created. They hadn't tried at all, really. They simply threw everything in together, set the flame underneath the cauldron, and stirred vigorously. The outcome had been really quite impressive. Instead of the black liquid like they were supposed to get, they got a rather interesting shade of pink sludge.

"I think it's brilliant," Lee beamed.

"Silence," Snape snarled. "Everyone bottle up what you've made," he leered at the twins. "If you can, anyway, and leave it on my desk to be graded."

George managed to slice the lump into a small enough piece to fit in a vial, as Fred wrote their names on it with his wand. He held it up and showed it to George. It read, _Sincerely, Gred and Forge Weasley. _They both grinned at their names as dropped it on Snape's desk, who chose to ignore their existence.

The brothers along with Lee exited the dungeon with satisfaction, wishing they'd never have to go back in there. "That went well," George smiled.

"Believe me, we caught him on a _good_ day," Lee said as they headed to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Who caught who on a good day?" Ron inquired, catching up to them with Hermione and Harry right behind.

"You, because we were wondering how we were going to bump you off," Fred remarked dryly. George glanced at him, surprised as to why he was talking like that to a stranger. "Oh, George, that's Ron, our younger brother."

Ron looked awkward at having to be told to his older brother who he was. Though, it made sense. Ron had the same fiery red hair and blue eyes, though he was taller than them.

"That's Harry Potter." George looked at the raven haired boy with startling green eyes. The scar was just visible underneath a fringe of hair. Harry seemed amused at the fact that he'd have to be introduced to someone, and seemed a little relieved to tell the truth.

"And that's Hermione Granger," Fred added, nodding to the only girl there. She had bushy, curly brown hair, brown eyes, and a kind face. Though she looked like the studious sort.

"Er, hi," George said, shifting his weight a bit from one foot to the other. "Assuming we've met of course, I don't think I need to introduce myself," he smiled amusedly.

"We just came out of potions," Lee said. "Snape's probably going to be in a bad mood the rest of the day, so if you have potions, be careful."

Ron groaned. "Great, we have him next."

"Bummer," Fred replied sympathetically. "Just try to be on your best behaviour."

Harry snorted. "Won't make a difference. Snape hates us no matter what we do."

"Pretend to be someone else," George supplied helpfully.

Everyone chortled as they sat down for lunch.

* * *

><p>"Well, this is it," Fred gesticulated towards the Quidditch pitch. "Beautiful, ain't it?"<p>

"Absolutely marvellous," George rolled his eyes, holding his broomstick like he'd never seen one before in his entire life. "So how do I fly this again?"

Fred scratched his head. "Well, you kind of get on it and push off."

"That's it?" George raised his eyebrows. "No weird words, no wands, you just _get on?"_

"Pretty much."

"Cool," George laughed. "Simple, the way I like it."

It was Friday afternoon and they couldn't have asked for better weather. It was chilly, but not cold, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. However, after spending a few more sessions with Umbridge, it seemed permanent white scars had already formed on George's hand, spelling out the ridiculous line she wanted engraved in his skin. It disturbed Fred a little to see how quickly they became scars.

George followed his brother farther on to the pitch, glancing around in awe. There were three giant hoops on either end of the field and giant stands for people to watch. Quidditch seemed to be really popular here.

"Alright, get on your broom," Fred instructed, clambering on to his own. George felt extremely silly doing so, but he followed suit. "Okay, now kick off from the ground." Frew rose into the air and George was amazed. It took him a few seconds to realise that he was waiting for him, before he gave the ground a little shove and was slightly alarmed to find himself rising as well.

"Brilliant," Fred beamed, spinning around to face him. He looked a bit shaky, but he was up in the air at least. "Now to fly, you kind of just lean forward. But don't worry if you don't get it right away, the -" but a sudden whoosh startled Fred into silence.

George was shooting down the field, a sense of pride and freedom coursing through him. _This is amazing._ He heard Fred's shout of laughter and the next thing he knew, Fred was flying right beside him, a mischievous grin on his face as he remarked, "Race you!"

The two took off as fast as their brooms could go, lapping around the field until George got bored and decided to see what else he could do. He wove inbetween the loops, narrowly missing them a few times before he shot straight up into the air, going so high Fred looked like a little speck from below him, before he lowered himself carefully.

"Well, you caught on faster than I expected," Fred said joyfully. "Are you ready for the Bludgers?" George nodded enthusiastically.

Fred flew to the ground and within minutes brought out a large trunk. He motioned for George to come to him. "These," Fred said a little breathlessly, pointing at two quivering, medium sized balls that seemed bent on getting free of the chains that held them back. "Are Bludgers. They're nasty little buggers, as you can probably imagine."

George grimaced, but said simply said, "What're the rules for Quidditch?"

"Oh, um, well there are seven people to each team. Three of them are Chasers, and they try and hit that ball," Fred pointed to the red, largest sized ball, "-through one of the hoops, which is worth ten points. It's called a Quaffle." The ginger then pointed to a tiny, golden ball. "This is called the Golden Snitch. Harry, our Seeker, is in charge of catching it. Which ever team catches it gets one hundred and fifty points, and the game is over. It can only end when it's been caught. Now the Keeper is in charge of guarding the hoops, but all _we_ really need to worry about are those Bludgers." Fred grabbed two small clubs and handed one to his brother. "Our job is to hit the Bludgers away from our team and at the other. All good?"

George had no idea how he'd remember all that, but he simply asked nervously, "We were good at being Beaters, weren't we?" He was hoping it'd come to him as easily as flying did.

Fred grinned. "We were unbeatable. Wood, our old Keeper and Captain, always told us we were like a pair of human Bludgers ourselves." The twin laughed.

"C'mon, get on your broom, I'll let you practice with the Bludger."

That sobered George up instantly. He gave the angry ball an apprehensive look before he did what he was told. _Stop being stupid,_ he scolded himself as his heart hammered against his chest. He did _not_ want to let that thing go. He really, really didn't for some, unexplained reason. _Oh, come off it, Fred wouldn't let you get killed._

Fred, however, was starting to feel less confident of his decision. He was terrified that the Bludger might hit him again. _But there's only one this time!_ He told himself. _And that bloody idiot isn't here to try and murder him. _It continued to worry him terribly, though he still shouted, "I'm letting it go!"

George gripped his bat and his broomstick as tightly as he could, watching with fear as the Bludger shot straight up into the air. Fred mounted his broom quickly and rose into the air, keeping a careful eye on his brother. He didn't look so well. He sped to George, hovering protectively close incase he needed his interference.

The ginger watched with detached horror as the Bludger came flying towards him. "Okay, just relax George," he heard Fred say calmly. "Raise your bat..." But George couldn't move. He was utterly paralyzed. "George, it's coming closer! Raise your bat!"

And George fainted.

_"George!"_

Fred bolted forward, catching his twin around the middle like he had before, and he had a horrible flashback to that day. Terror gripped this throat, making it difficult to breathe, as he realised that this was exactly what he had looked like last time. Save for the blood.

"Oh God, George."

* * *

><p><em>"You bloody git!" I screamed, absolute fury at seeing Goyle of all people wrench my bat away. Of all the dirty, low things to do, this had to be at the top. Or...rather, the bottom, which ever way you want to look at it.<em>

_Angry at myself for letting a _Slytherin_ take advantage of me, I tore after Harry, a steely resolve firm in my mind. I was not going to let the best Seeker we've ever had get beat by something I should've been able to stop. And besides, I didn't think _'The Chosen One Killed By Bludger'_ would make a very good headline for the _Daily Prophet.

"George!"_ I heard Fred scream, but I barely paid any attention. I knew what I was doing. As a last ditch attempt, I thrust my body forward, shoving Harry roughly out of the way and my entire world turned upside down as I rolled away. The Bludger narrowly missed _my _head this time instead of Harry's as the hot air whooshed by, just grazing my cheek. _

_"Ha!" I grinned triumphantly. Take that you no good, dirty, cheating-_

"George, look out-!"

_I had never heard my twin so panicked. I saw the raw desperation on Fred's face out of the corner of my eye as I made to turn around, but terrible agony split my head open. Black spots clouded my vision as I lurched forward and spun sickeningly into the darkness. _

"George! George, wake up! Please," Fred sobbed, knowing all too well how close his brother had been to death last time he looked this way. And though he knew that nothing had hit him, and that George would wake up completely alright, it still made his heart stutter in absolute and incomprehensible horror. Seeing George lying there like he had last time was just too much for him.

George's eyes flickered open, dazed and disoriented. "W-What happened?"

Fred gave a strangled sort of cry before he gave his brother a fierce hug, pressing his head into his chest. He couldn't stop his shoulders from shaking as he held on as if for dear life. It was impossible to describe how terrified he had been. "We seem to be doing this a lot lately," he heard George mumble into his shirt in a half-hearted attempt to sound amused as he grabbed him back.

"Well if you stopped being a prat we wouldn't have to," Fred weakly chuckled, pulling back. But he saw George wasn't paying attention. His face was pale, his shoulders trembling, and he was staring off into the distance, a contemplative and fearful look on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

George nodded, and asked in a low voice, "What happened? Where's the Bludger?"

"The Bludger's in the chest. And you kind of...fainted."

George rubbed at his eyes. "Blimey, that's embarrassing." He attempted a faint smile, but it was forced.

"George...what...what happened? Why'd you freeze up?"

His voice was so low that Fred barely heard him, but it was hard not to mistake the faint whisper of, "Flashback."

Fred looked surprised. "You remembered something?"

George nodded again shakily. "J-Just when I...got hit."

The ginger gripped his shoulder, saying forcefully, "I'll talk to the Captain, Angelina, to get you out of practice."

George looked downright sick and shaken to the core, but he somehow managed to shake his head. "N-No. I'm not going to let a bloody half-witted tosser like Goyle get the best of me."

Fred's voice trembled as he argued, "George, are you mad? You nearly got yourself killed _again."_

The twin gave him a wry smile. "When am I _not_ nearly getting myself killed?"

Fred sat back with an exhausted thump. "You'd save me a fair amount of heart attacks if you weren't."

George looked a bit ashamed. "Sorry," he muttered. "S'not like I mean to."

It never struck Fred as to how odd his own remark sounded until right this minute. Normally, the two were fearless and naïve when it came to danger, but now? "I know," he replied. "I wasn't blaming you. Something's just bent on bumping you off," he frowned.

They sat there in silence, both a little unnerved by this statement. The two were only brought back to Earth when Fred spotted Angelina and the rest of the team walking towards them. "You can watch, but you're not practicing today," Fred said firmly in a no-nonsense voice. George sighed and gave in, knowing he was right and there was no use arguing.

They stood and met the team, and both twins noticed how Ron and Harry regarded George with sympathy. George's eyebrows knitted together unhappily. He didn't want sympathy, he wanted his memory back. He wanted to be treated _normally._

"What're you lot doing out here so early?" Angelina asked as they approached.

"Just warming up," Fred replied vaguely, casting a glance at his brother.

Her eyes narrowed for a second. "Why're your eyes puffy? Have you been-?"

"Listen, can we talk?" Fred interupted hastily, feeling his face grow a bit pink. He placed a hand on her shoulder and led her a little ways away from the pitch, George clambering after them.

"What's this about?"

"I don't think George should practice just yet," he told her worriedly, using whatever charm he could muster. At her skeptical look, he took a deep breath and continued, "It's just that, well, George-"

"-Has a bit of a headache," George interupted. Fred looked sharply at him, surprised. "And I've been forbidden to play until they're gone."

"Why?" Angelina prodded, though her expression softened.

"If I get even a bit joggled it'll mess my head up more than it is and I'll never be able to play again," he replied without a second's hesitation.

The twins knew that would get her. She could live without George for a few practices, but not forever. "Alright, but I want you to stay and watch," she commanded. "Pay attention to the moves, but most importantly," she placed a hand on his arm. "Take it easy. We need you out there." She walked off back to the awaiting team.

"And here I thought I was supposed to be the master liar," Fred grinned good naturedly, clapping him on the shoulder and going after Angelina. George gave him a small smile before heading towards the stands.

He hadn't been lying.

* * *

><p>George rubbed at his temples absent-mindly as the team blurred before his vision. He tried to pay attention, he really did, but his head was just aching too badly to pay attention to anything but that. Every sound felt like a gong in his brain, and he bit his lip so badly to keep himself from more than whimpering it started to bleed. And because of this, whenever he was pretty sure no one was looking, he spat a mouthful of blood over the side of the stands. He knew he couldn't keep going on like this. It was hard enough to pretend it wasn't there when he was by himself, but when others were speaking to him? It was impossible.<p>

He'd go to Madam Pomfry tomorrow, he decided. She'd told him while Fred had gone to get him some new clothes before he left the Hospital Wing for the first time that he should avoid straining his brain anymore then he had to. But she must've expected _something_ to happen, right? Maybe that was why his headaches were so bad. But he'd go without Fred so he wouldn't get upset. He worried enough about him as it is, he didn't want to give him anymore of a reason to.

But a part of him wondered whether any of this was real. If he couldn't remember his past, how did he know that he wasn't just in a dream? What if none of this, Fred, Quidditch, magic...what if none of this was real? George kind of liked the idea of thinking he was a wizard. He liked having a twin and five plus siblings. He liked the idea that he was good at being a Beater and was the other half to the title of The Hogwarts's Kings of Pranks. George didn't want to wake up to find himself in a trauma hospital with no siblings and nothing really special about him. He wanted to believe this was real, he just needed to find a way to prove it.

A sudden whistle blew that jolted him out of his musings, signaling the end of Quidditch practice. George stood, trying in vain to ignore the pounding in his head, and started on his way down. He knew he had a few minutes while Fred changed to himself, so he stood by the tent and continued to wonder how on Earth he could figure it out. If his mind had conjured this entire thing up, how could he find someone with an unbiased opinion?

George sighed, kicking at the grass. He really hated not remembering anything. It just got to him sometimes that things he should know were brought up without realising that he had no idea what they were talking about. Who were the Chudley Canons? And what on Earth were Grindylows and Dementors?

"Oi, Earth to George," an amused voice sounded in the ginger's ears.

George jumped slightly, looking up to find Fred grinning at him. "Oh, hey," George mumbled. "Practice was good?"

Fred raised an eyebrow. "So you weren't watching then? Blimely, Angelina will do her nut is she finds out."

"Which is why you won't tell her," George poked his brother in the shoulder as they saunteered off.

Despite the light-hearted banter, Fred knew there was something wrong with him. Alicia told him in the dressing room that George had been clutching his forehead and at one point spat blood over the railing. Like he needed to be losing anymore blood. George had to go to the Hospital Wing every night after detention with Umbridge to stop the bleeding. His twin had eventually learned how to get from her office and back, but Fred met him every night anyway. He didn't know what to expect everytime he came out, but each time was worse than the last. Fred was afraid that he might have to drag his brother out of her room if she kept him at it.

It took until they got into the empty Common room for Fred to finally blurt out, "Are you okay?"

George turned to him, shocked. "Fine, why do you ask?"

"I know you're lying George," Fred said sternly. "You were clutching your head and spitting out blood. What's the matter?"

The twin glanced down, a bit ashamed. "I just get headaches, alright? It's no big deal, honestly."

"And the blood?"

"Bit my lip," he said simply. He carefully left out the reason _why_ he bit his lip.

Fred stared him down for a few seconds before he seemed to think he was telling the truth and smiled. "Good. We don't need something else to be wrong with you, mate."

* * *

><p>Read and review please!<p> 


	5. Winter Winds

**Author's Note:** HEY! :D So, I think this is a pretty quick update, eh? :) So, this chapter's a little short, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway :) And **runeaglerun**, ****hachoo****, ****My-Toxic-Wings****, ****Pinkranger888****, thank you all so much for your reviews! :D I love the feedback!

To **Pinkranger888:** I am SO glad you like this story! :D I'm working as hard as I can to get as many chapters out as possible before school starts in September because it _might_ cause a problem in my updating :P But the fact that you like it is a huge motivation, so thank you! :D

And to **My-Toxic-Wings:** Ah! You're right! You _would_ think Molly and Arthur would've been notified, but for this story, Madam Pomfry didn't because she thought his memory would start to come back before they had to go back for Christmas break and didn't want them to worry. She did tell them about the accident, as you'll find out later, but didn't mention the loss of memory. So, for this reason she's a bit AU :P But it has to be this way for the plot I've developed :) Good catch ;)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling, however, does :)

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**Winter Winds**

_'We'll be washed and buried one day my girl,  
><em>_And the time we were given will be left for the world.  
><em>_The flesh that lived and loved will be eaten by plague,  
><em>_So let the memories be good for those who stayed.'_

**~ 'Winter Winds,' Mumford & Sons**

"I don't think this is going to work," George said glumly, sitting in one of the chairs in a decidingly dejected manner.

"Oh, come on, just try it one more time," Fred pressed, sitting beside his brother. It had been a two weeks since their first Quidditch practice and George had yet to take part (Fred's fault) or visit the Hospital Wing. He knew he should, but he never knew how to quite get away from Fred without making it look too suspicious, but he was at the point now where he cared very little about that. The good news, however, was that his detentions with Umbridge were over. Finally.

The twins were in an empty classroom and they had been trying out spells for the past hour with little success. It wasn't that George wasn't trying, it was just...the headaches were murder.

"The only spell I can do is _Expelliarmus,_ and even then I've only been able to do it a few times," he sighed.

"You just have to concentrate, Georgie," Fred said patiently. "Focus on knocking the wand out of my hand, and only that. Block everything else out."

_Easy for you to say,_ George gritted his teeth but held his wand up. It was a little weird to be holding a stick and attempting to make sparks come out of it, but he just went with it. Fred simply stood in front of him, his wand raised slightly but having no intent on using it. George took a deep breath, trying to get over his self-consciousness, and cried, _"Expelliarmus!"_ His head pulsed and throbbed but he forced his brain to cooperate through the pain.

Fred's wand flew up into the air and landed a few feet away from him. Fred beamed, "You did it George!"

However, George didn't smile back. His legs shook slightly and he immediately placed a hand on his head. He felt sick. "George?" came his brother's worried voice and he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "Just a little headache."

Fred looked unsure, but he decided to let it go. "Maybe we should continue this later, give yourself a break."

George nodded, sighing, "Yeah. Do you think we can practice Quidditch?"

His twin brightened, "I think you know the answer to that, mate."

"Great," George grinned. "Meet me there, okay? I just have to do something."

Fred looked at him with a troubled gaze. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"Yes," he answered too quickly. He cleared his throat and looked apologetically at him. "I'm sorry, I'll only be a few minutes."

The ginger nodded, offered him a smile, and left for the pitch. However, it fell as soon as he rounded the corner, a worried expression etched on his face.

George waited until he was sure Fred had enough time to leave before he slinked out of the room and ran down the hallway towards the Hospital Wing. He had to halt a few times because of the pain in his head made him dizzy, but he eventually was able to burst through the doors.

Madam Pomfry, who had been tending to a patient, looked up in mild surprise. "My goodness, what's wrong Mr. Weasley?"

"I just...headache," George gasped, clutching the side of the door frame.

"Ah," she tittered, grabbing a bottle and coming over to him. "I was wondering when they would start to get to you." George looked shocked. "I must admit, it took longer than I expected." He said nothing as she began to pour the thick, orange liquid slowly into the cap while one bloke, a Slytherin he was guessing because of the snake on his robes, moaned very loudly and continuously. George didn't know why, but he instantly did not like the kid for purely that reason.

"Oi," George snapped. "Shut it, we're all hurting."

The Slytherin immediately stopped, but glared at George as he took the cap. Apparently the bloke couldn't do anything but moan because he didn't say anything to George as he gulped down the liquid. "Thanks," he told her, though he made a disgusted face at the taste. "That's bloody awful."

She smirked as she took the bottle, replying with a simple, "Goodbye Mr. Weasley."

Whatever the orange liquid had been, it was working a bit. The agony inside his head was dying down little by little, but not nearly as much as he'd like. He ran to the Quidditch pitch and found Fred doing a whole bunch of tricks George didn't even know were possible. He did loop-de-loops, hung upside down while he flew, and even stood on it. Even from the distance George could see the huge grin on Fred's face, and it actually pained him a bit to see it. He never smiled that wide when he was around George. And whenever he did smile it didn't last for long.

He sighed, toying with the idea of simply leaving Fred to have more time of actual happiness. It wasn't fair for Fred to be so weighed down by him. George thought back to his dream he'd had last night and winced, suddenly realising how true it was.

George dreamt that they were on the Quidditch pitch like they were now, only without their brooms. The entire school was zooming past them on _their_ broomsticks, calling for Fred to hurry up, but he couldn't. He had George on his back and could only walk along while everyone else sped past him. George was a burden, and he was hurting his brother.

Why did he have to be so clueless to everything? And why was he making Fred teach him all of these things? Couldn't he just find other people to help him instead of only Fred? His detentions with Umbridge were over now, so he had no reason to not ask for evening tutoring.

_Maybe I should just leave altogether,_ George pondered glumly. _That way I won't be a burden to anyone._ Now that he thought about it, it seemed to make the most sense. He couldn't remember six years worth of education, let alone his family, friends, or past. As far as memory served him, he never existed.

"Hey George!" Fred called ecstatically, finally spotting him and zooming over to him.

George took a deep breath and grinned up at him. "Hey. Where's my broom?"

"Over there," he nodded towards the stands. George hurried over and grabbed it, kicking off quickly and joining Fred in the air.

* * *

><p>George could not sleep.<p>

It wasn't the first time, but tonight seemed...different. He felt so alone and disconnected from his body, like he wasn't who he thought he should be. His heart ached for unknown reasons and his chest tightened, making every breath hurt with the sorrow it carried out.

He stared at the ceiling, feeling the emotion that had been lingering in his subconscious finally break through. George didn't know who he was and didn't know how to be the George everyone else wanted back. It was hard and terribly lonely to know there was an expectation held for you, but you had no idea how to reach it. And you were the one who had to do it alone.

George heaved a heavy sigh, throwing the covers back and making to stand on the cold tile beneath his feet. He padded softly to the washroom just a few feet from the beds, not minding the darkness and finding he could move quite easily through it now. The darkness made him feel more complete in his loneliness. The sun illuminated the close relations the others had that George could only pretend to feel. In darkness, he was utterly secure. Alone without being lonely.

The door to the loo made the faintest of creaks, though it seemed as loud as a cannonball being fired to George. He closed the door so it was nearly shut (so it would block out the light but the door would not creak or click with being reopened), and flicked on the switch. The light blinded him for a few moments, and his eyes closed unwillingly until they could adjust. But when they did, George found himself staring at a person he did not know.

His eyes were blue and showed hints of pain and saddness in them, raking over the features that were so unfamiliar to him. George never spent any time looking at himself for this very reason; he didn't not want to look into his reflection and not recognize his face. When he had been forced to compare his and Fred' reflections when he woke up was the last time he saw himself, and though he and Fred were twins and therefore looked very much alike, it wasn't the same as looking into your own face. The face that was uniquely yours, no matter how similar it was to someone else's.

George's eyes traced every line of his face, trying to memorize it and put it to who he was inside, but he simply...couldn't. The hair seemed too fiery, his skin too ashen, his face was too angled and too freckly for it to be him. It was as if he was trapped in a stranger's body, on the inside looking out. No. He was not George Weasley. The body, perhaps, was. But the spirit did not belong here.

This saddened George even more, but it mostly made him feel trapped inside of his own skin. It made him feel desperate. He wanted to claw open his body and finally release his soul so it wouldn't have to be so cramped. How terrible a feeling it is to be caged inside yourself, unable to get away because you followed your every move. Anything else you could get away from. But from yourself was impossible.

The ginger's breath started to quicken, coming in short, raspy gasps as he clutched his chest. Everything was too close to him...his clothes were too tight, his skin was too taught, the walls were too constricting...everything...everything was too _close!_

There was a slight pounding of feet on tile. "George! George, it's alright," came a slightly panicked voice known as Fred. Who else? "George, calm down," he pleaded. "Breathe...deep breaths, George, deep breaths!"

Fred...Fred was too close. His body was too warm, suffocating him. His breathing continued to heighten and the lack of oxygen was making him feel dizzy.

With a strangled sounded escaping Fred's throat, he conjured up a paper bag, vaguely remembering that Hermione had mentioned that it helped when something like this occurred, and thrust it in George's lap. "Breathe into this," he ordered firmly, not about to take no for an answer. The dazed Weasley took it weakly and began clutching it around his mouth and wheezed into it. It took a few moments for George's breathing to return to a near normal state, all the while Fred was wondering how on Earth everyone else remained asleep.

George dropped his hands and handed the bag back without a word, looking anywhere but at Fred's eyes. "What happened?" Fred asked immediately, looking exhausted.

"Nothing," George snapped, getting up and making towards his bed.

With a low growl, Fred followed him and hissed, "Don't you bloody tell me nothing's wrong." He bore such a stern look that it would've made their mother proud.

The ginger looked at his twin with a look of utter contempt, his eyes narrowing. "I can tell you what I like." He did not like being talked down to like he was a little kid. Merlin's beard, they were the same age!

Fred ran a hand through his hair, his expression softening into an imploring look. "Please, it's too early in the morning to start a row. I'm only trying to help, and I know that whatever's bothering you will only worsen."

And after a few moments of staring the other down, George cracked.

It started slowly, a few tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes and trailing down his cheeks in that agonizingly leadened way. And then all Hell broke loose.

A bewildered Fred hugged a sobbing George to his chest, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to find everyone else still fast asleep. "It's okay," he murmured, unsure as to what had upset him so badly. But whatever it was, he'd _make_ it okay. He rocked their bodies back and forth, trying to soothe him with the motion. It was one of those cries that couldn't help but be vocalized, and Fred was enternally grateful for the fact that all of their roommates seemed to be heavy sleepers.

"I'm s-sorry," George whimpered finally, when he calmed down a bit. His eyes were red and swollen and still watery, but he seemed more composed.

Fred considered his words thoughtfully before responding, "For what?"

"For holding you back," he choked. "For lashing out, for being clueless, for-"

"-Not possessing mind powers to stop the Bludger from hitting you?" Fred asked, a little amusedly. But he sobered up instantly. "If anything, I should be the one to apologise." George pulled back, a baffled look on his face. "I don't know what it's like to go around not knowing anything about anything," Fred said seriously and sadly, for it pained him to think about how hard this was for George. "And I don't exactly go about it the right way. I mean, since the accident, I've made things so much worse for you. Got you in more trouble with Umbridge, made you nearly get hit by the Bludger _again." _He frowned unhappily, his heart sinking. "I've been a prat of a brother." Being the older one of the twins, he felt like he should've been more supportive.

"You've done more than enough," George said quietly. "Just by not giving up on me is enough." They fell into a silence that wasn't uncomfortable, but it felt incomplete. "I'm just..." George continued finally, staring determindly at the wall. "I'm sorry you have to put up with me. I'm sorry that...you deserve to be happy, and by me holding you back, I..." Fresh tears poured down his face at the guilt he was feeling.

There was a slight pause. "Georgiekins," Fred finally replied affectionately, tussling his hair. "Don't you dare think any of this is your fault. You are not, and never will be, a burden to me. You are not depriving me from any sort of happiness. I'm happy just being your brother."

George didn't know what to say. He rested his head on Fred's shoulder as Fred wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace, allowing the comfort offered to him calm his tears. " And I do not 'put up' with you," Fred continued after a few moments. "If I didn't want to be around you, I wouldn't be. It doesn't matter what happens, we're not going to be split up. And I don't mind teaching you all these things," he added. "It's kind of nice, actually. For once I know things you don't," he chuckled.

George gave a small smile, but lapsed into silence. "When I look into the mirror, I don't recognize my face," he whispered softly, sounding heartbroken. "It's like I'm looking at a stranger, and it's supposed to be _me."_

There was a little hitch in Fred's breathing as he processed this, before saying bravely, "But you've known what you looked like for almost a month now, haven't you?"

He shook his head. "I know what _you_ look like, yes. But not me."

"But I look like you-" It suddenly all clicked for Fred. "That's why...in the washroom..." George nodded solemnly.

"It doesn't feel right to me," he muttered. "I don't look like how I think I should."

"C'mon," Fred replied, grabbing George's wrist as he stood up. He made his way to the washroom and the two walked inside and flicked on the light, shutting the door. The brothers stared at the two faces in the mirror. "What's wrong with it?"

George gave Fred a look, but the one that was returned told him to just do what he said. His eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated. "Erm...my face is too freckly."

Fred suddenly chuckled. "Granted, it is frecklier than mine, but only by a few. It's only noticeable if you're us," he grinned. Being twins, you know these kinds of things. "What else?"

"My face is too pointy." He felt weird discussing this with his brother.

The twin looked between his reflection and George's, seeing a slight difference suddenly that he hadn't known was there. "That's a bad thing?" His own face was a little more rounded than George's was, but again, it was not even noticeable. A sudden realisation clicked in his mind and he asked more warily, "What else is wrong?"

"Um...my hair's too...orange."

Fred was right. "George, you're only pointing out the things that are different between us," he stated. "You didn't say anything about your eyes."

George raised an eyebrow. "Well no, because-"

"They're exactly like mine," Fred said gently. "Right down to the shading." He turned to face his brother. "Just because we're twins doesn't mean every last detail is perfectly matched up." Fred knew what his twin had been thinking. _'The old George didn't have this many freckles. The old George didn't have this orange hair. The old George looked exactly like Fred.'_

George bit his lip. "Everyone expects the old George to just come stampeding right back like he never left, and I can't _deal_ with those kinds of expectations! I don't know who the old George was or whether he looked any different from me now, and I'm just...I'm _trying_ to bring him back but it's not going to happen in all flames and glory like everyone expects!"

Fred felt ashamed of himself, knowing all too well he had been one of those people in the stands rooting for the old George and completely neglecting the present one. He couldn't even begin to imagine having that kind of pressure. "I'm sorry," he whispered, extremely annoyed at himself for doing this to him. "I didn't know..."

The ginger sighed, and Fred could almost feel the loneliness himself. "No one ever does." He cast a glance back at his reflection, and it hurt Fred to see his brother look himself dead in the eye and not know the person staring back.

George made to leave, but Fred grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. "Not anymore," he said reassuringly. "From now on I'm only going to teach you how to do what _you _want, not what the old George would've wanted." He felt a bit deadened by the statement.

But apparently, that's not what new-George had in mind. "I appreciate that," he mused. "But just because I'm a little different, doesn't mean everything's changed." He grinned for the first time that night.

Fred looked surprised, but felt new hope suddenly rise within him. "You mean...?"

"I want to learn how to make our products."

* * *

><p>Read and review! :D<p> 


	6. Like A Staring Contest

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much to **Real Men Play Quidditch**, **MoMoHappy1**, **hachoo**, **Pinkranger888**,** MadCatta, tiara** and just anyone who takes the time to read my story!

To **hachoo:** THANK YOU SO MUCH! I was sooo hoping that I got George right there and I'm glad you think so! I just thought that knowing that people expected you to be a certain way would be an enormous amount of pressure, unless all those movies about stuff like that lied to me xP haha and I COMPLETELY agree! Fred is just awesome :D There's no other way to say it :D Haha and thanks for the line mention! I personally liked it too so I'm really excited that you saw it! :D Your reviews are always the best!

To **Pinkranger888: **Ahh! :D I'm extremely ecstatic that you liked it! It means a lot when people review so you automatically make my day by doing so! :D

To **MoMoHappy1:** HEY THERE! :D Welcome! :D haha I'm glad you gave my story a chance and I'm flattered you thought it was good!

To **Real Men Play Quidditch:** Okay, first of all, I have to say that I LOVE your name! :D haha and second, welcome to you too! Haha I do try to make it as awesome and abnormal as possible ;) lol

And to **tiara:** Thank you so much for the review! And don't you worry, we'll definitely see the reactions from the rest of the Weasleys later in the story :)

Just letting everyone know, the words in **bold** are lines that I used from the 'Order of the Phoenix' since I kind of needed it and I didn't want to get in trouble :)

**Disclaimer:** I DO... not own Harry Potter.

**Summary:** After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating:** K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Like A Staring Contest**

_'"It's a simple proposition," said the rabbit to the badger,  
>"I am sure if we're commited, we could dig our way to China.<br>Wouldn't it be great to see the world,  
>And all those people standing on their heads?"'<em>

**~ 'Like A Staring Contest,' The Future Kings of Nowhere**

"And what does this one do?" George asked excitedly, pointing to a couple of chocolates.

Fred laughed, feeling bubbly as he watched his brother run around their dormitory like a kid in a candy store. It was the Saturday after last, the only day they could have as much free time to themselves to go over all their jokes and pranks. "Those, my friend, are Nosebleed Nougats. Makes anyone who eats one develope a nasty bloody nose that will ensure them to get out of class."

"Brilliant!" George exclaimed, beaming up at Fred. "We managed to _create_ all of these?"

"And sell quite a few of them," Fred replied proudly.

"Wicked," George continued in awe. "How on _Earth..._can you show me how?" he asked, looking back at Fred enthusiastically.

"Of course," he grinned. "It's a bit complicated, but I reckon you'll be able to get the hang of it again."

George wrinkled his nose a bit. "Does it involve potions?"

"Mostly Charms, actually," Fred mended, chuckling a bit. "Though some of them like the Puking Pastilles required a few ingredients that needed to be mixed together." He looked at George. "You came up with that, otherwise we'd be screwed."

"Well of course," George scoffed. "I'm the smart one, ain't I?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Maybe the smart _arse."_

George smirked and teased, "Jealousy really isn't a good look on you."

The twin looked mock-horrified. "Why? Does it clash with my hair?" He threw his hands up dramatically to cover his ginger locks.

George laughed, but as he studied the Puking Pastilles, his face fell into a frown. His gaze intensified with concentrasion, appearing as if he could almost see right through them. "Does..." he paused, looking unsure.

"What?" Fred pressed enthusiastically. "Do you remember something?"

The ginger nodded, biting his lip. "I think. I don't know, but...are...are the ingredients...sneezewort...erm...scurvy grass...grape vine...lovage...a...a Mandrake leaf...and orange seeds?"

Fred's jaw hit the floor. "How the bloody hell-?"

George looked just as astounded. "I have no idea."

"That's might spooky, Georgie."

He only seemed to nod in agreement, continuing to look completely bewildered.

"Do you remember the quantity?" Fred asked, feeling his heart thud erratically against his chest in anticipation.

George shook his head, though he responded confidently, "I'm sure I'll remember soon enough, though. It's at the tip of my tongue, I just can't reach it yet."

Fred clapped him on the shoulder, beaming from ear to ear. "This is fantastic. We'll be back in business in no time, mate!"

His brother looked at him amusedly. "Can you not brew them yourself?"

The ginger wrinkled his nose. "You may not remember it, but the last time I tried we both walked around with no eyebrows for weeks. Don't think we want a replay of that."

George chortled, "I'm glad I don't remember _that." _He gave Fred a curious look. "Hey, if we're doing only 'okay' in school, how do we manage to make these?"

Fred looked like it was obvious. "Because this is _important."_

The shared identical grins, both agreeing in this statement.

"Wotcher, Weasleys," a familiar voice sounded from behind them.

"Oh, hey Lee," Fred greeted as George's eyes continued to pass over the other joke candies. "Just refreshing George's memory."

"Ah!" Lee beamed, standing beside them. "Have you taught him how to make them yet?"

"Actually," Fred said excitedly. "He remembered all the ingredients to the Puking Pastilles."

Lee's eyebrows shot up, looking between the two. "You're yanking my wand."

"Am not," Fred responded happily. "Just off the top of his head, he listed every single ingredient! Even the orange seeds and the grape vine we use for colour! It was bloody impressive."

"Fantastic!" Lee rushed over with the appearance of wanting to see George in action, before pausing. "Damn, I forgot. I'm supposed to tell you lot about a..." He checked over his shoulder, whispering quietly, "A meeting."

The twins exchanged looks. "Go on," they said together.

"All I can tell you is that it involves Harry, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Umbridge. Oh, and it'll be held at Hog's Head at the first Hogsmeade visit." Lee was rather hushed about the entire topic.

George cocked his head to the side, a confused expression developing on his face. "What's Hogsmeade?" he asked in a quiet voice, as Lee seemed bent on keeping the meeting as secretive as possible.

Lee gave him an odd look before realisation dawned on him. "Oh! Right! I forgot. Hogsmeade is a village that we can go to during selected weekends. Hogs Head is-"

"A dodgy tavern that no one goes to," Fred finished, looking skeptical. "Why would we need to go there?"

Lee shrugged. "Dunno, mate. Just passing along a message. Reckon we should go, though. It is Harry, right?"

Fred nodded, agreeing. Harry wouldn't go to these lengths unless it was important. "We'll be there."

"Great," Lee beamed, making his way to the door. "I'll let Hermi-erm...them know." And he left.

"Did he just say Hermione?" George asked Fred, baffled.

Fred looked equally as confused, but then waved it off. "Ah, no matter. Same thing, really."

George paused a second before inquiring, "Why does it make a difference that the meeting's about Harry?"

Fred thought back to the past five years. How in the first year Harry fought Voldemort disguised as Professor Quirrell's back-of-head for the Philosopher's stone, which apparently had the Elixir of Life that would bring Voldemort back. In his second year, he battled the Basilisk to save their sister and the school from being killed and petrified. Third year Harry found himself fighting off the Dementors to save Sirius, and last year he battled in the Triwizard Tournament, fought Voldemort himself, and got Barty Crouch Jr. captured after his attempts to kill him and pretend to be Mad-Eye Moody. He smirked.

"Where do I start?"

* * *

><p>"Is there usually this many people going down to Hogsmeade?" George asked nervously, shifting his eyes between the people surrounding him. He stepped a little closer to Fred, feeling extremely clausterphobic of all the other students. George didn't mind people he knew being around him, but ninety-nine percent of the people who were at the moment were strangers. Plus, ever since the washroom incident, he became a little clauterphobic in general.<p>

Fred squeezed George's shoulder reassuringly, but said nothing as they walked, following the crowd. "Just a little farther, Georgie, don't worry," he kept murmuring, not sure whether he was trying to convince George or himself.

They spotted Lee a little ways ahead of them as the crowd started to disperse. George breathed more easily. "Oi! Lee!" Fred called, waving his hand in the air to catch the dread-locked boy's attention.

Lee's face split into a grin as he spotted them, and bounded towards the twins. "Weasleys," he bowed dramatically. "So glad you two could join me." He looked at Fred and asked, "Care to help me show Mr. Weasley," he bowed again to George, "the never disappointing Zonko's?"

George looked confused. "Zonko's?"

Lee waggled his eyebrows. "It's a joke shop."

"The best joke shop," Fred continued, beaming. "Except what ours will be."

"Yes, well, until that day," Lee grinned, gesturing towards Hogsmeade again. "Shall we?"

The boys hurried forward and burst into the store, looking around in awe. There were shelves and shelves of dungbombs, spell-check quills, flying dragons, candies, potions, and hundreds and hundreds of prank material. George didn't think he had ever seen such a magnificent place.

"What do you think?" Fred asked.

"I think it's brilliant," George smiled widely, running over to one of the shelves. Fred followed him and realised what had caught his attention. There lay a rather lethal looking metal instrument if he did say so himself, but it was the description that made it so intriguing.

_'Never search for an object ever again. Simply tap it and say, _'Amoveo,' _and it will turn into anything you desire! _WARNING: Consumption of this item, no matter what it represents, is regrettably not encouraged as it can do more damage than You-Know-Who himself on a very bad day.'

"Awesome," the twins said together, gazing at it like it held all of life's secrets.

"Imagine the damage we could do with this," Fred said dreamily.

But George was way ahead of him. He grabbed the object off the shelf and all but ran over the other customers to get to the counter. He reappeared some time later, looking a bit harrassed.

"What took you so long?" Fred asked absent-mindly, looking at a one of the potions with interest.

George glared. "Well, _someone_ forgot to show me how to make change."

Fred laughed, smiling apologetically. "Why didn't you come get me?"

George huffed, "Well I'd like to see _you_ get through that crowd in one piece."

The twin glanced at the counter and did a double-take. The entire school seemed to be up there. "Blimey, that's a lot of people. Sorry, mate."

But George didn't seem to be hung up on it, and simply brushed it off with a wave of his hand as he headed forward to look at all the other merchandise. By the end of the visit, they had stocked up on dungbombs, love potions that they were going to try on the other students for Harry (because they really believed that Harry didn't get enough of the right attention), shampoo for Snape, and ingredients for more of their candies and joke products.

Feeling quite accomplished, they paid for their stuff (Fred handled the interactions this time), found Lee with similar things, and walked off towards Hogs Head. George was raving about the store the entire time, and Fred and Lee were pleased with his enthusiasm; they had both been secretly afraid that this George wouldn't like pranks as much as he used to.

They followed the large crowd that they assumed was for Harry into the Hogs Head, struggling with their paper bags full of Zonko's stuff. Fred immediately went to the counter, doing a quick head count and asking for twenty-five Butterbeers. The bar man gave him a very dirty look, as if he had a whole other line of people waiting for his services, before he threw down his rag and grabbed the drinks. **"Cheers," said Fred, handing them out. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these..."**

Everyone handed over whatever money they had on them. George had no idea what Butterbeers were, but they seemed to be popular. This tavern, however, did not. It looked as if it had never held more than three people at a time in its entire existence, and looked downright filthy. As they all sat down around Harry, Hermione, and Ron, George ran one finger on his seat and saw a layer of dirt coating it. He looked up at Lee, who raised an eyebrow.

"If I catch some sort of disease from this place, I'm blaming Harry," Lee muttered. The bar man seemed to have sonar hearing because he whipped his head to glare openly at the two of them.

George simply sipped at his drink, surprised to find it rather tasty. Fred came to sit on his left, chugging his own Butterbeer and looking at Harry expectantly. As were everyone else.

**"Er..."** Hermione, rather than Harry, said in a high-pitched voice. **"Well...er...hi."** It suddenly occured to George that he hadn't heard Hermione speak yet and he hoped her voice wasn't this squeaky all the time. Harry gave George a small smile, but stared moodily at everyone else. This meeting, it seemed, hadn't been Harry's at all.

**"'Well ... erm ... well, you know why you're here."**

"Not really," George and Fred said together, glancing at Lee on George's right.

"Oops," Lee smiled sheepishly.

"You said we weren't allowed to know!"

"Yeah, I'm not the most trustworthy person," Lee confessed.

Hermione plunged on, somewhat embarrassed at the outburst. **"Erm ... well, Harry here had the idea-"** Harry shot her a look. He looked angry, like he had been dragged to this meeting himself rather than starting it up like he supposedly did. **"I mean _I_ had the idea...that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts...and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us..."**

Fred and George zoned out, getting the sense that Hermione would be rambling for a little while. There was an input from someone else, but even in their daydream state they knew it wasn't anything important.

However, after a rather loud shriek, George knew that something was not right. Everyone seemed to be freaking out about something. He cursed himself for blanking. George gave a half-glance to Fred, but he now stared intently at Harry like he was about to divulge in a deep secret.

**"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?"** came an aggressive voice.

George wanted to add, _Yeah, um, _I don't _know who that is. 'S not a very specific name, really._

**"Well, Dumbledore believes it-"** Hermione began, giving the air of wanting to move past the outburst yet again.

**"You mean, Dumbledore believes him,"** the blonde boy said, nodding at Harry. Everyone turned to glare at the blonde. _If he was going to attack him, then why the bloody hell did he come? _Fred said angrily in his head.

"Who are you?" Ron asked, rather rudely.

**"Zacharias Smith," he said, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."**

**"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about-"**

**"It's okay, Hermione,"** said Harry. He seemed rather determined to say something. His eyes never left Zacharias' as he spoke in a low, even voice. But that somehow made it seem more deadly. **"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back? I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."**

Fred was silently rooting for him. Though he _had _been rather curious, he felt that some things needed to be shared, and others were allowed to be kept secret.

Zacharias snorted dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know-"

**"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you,"** Harry spat angrily. George glowered openly at Zacharias, who sat across from him on his right. If Harry had been through as much as Fred said he had, then he would shut the boy's face himself. _Stupid git,_ he growled in his head. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

George sighed rather annoyedly, something only Fred could hear, out of his frustration of not knowing what the heck people were talking about. They had moved on to some topic about a Patronus, which George was utterly clueless about.

**"Look,"** Harry suddenly said helplessly, bringing George back from his musings. **"I ... I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but... I had a lot of help with all that stuff..."**

**"Not with the dragon, you didn't,"** said a boy to George's left. Ah. Now they were talking about things Harry had achieved. **"That was a seriously cool bit of flying..."**

"That was last year, wasn't it?" George murmured to Fred. He nodded.

**"Yeah, well-"** Harry tried to say.

**"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer."**

**"No, no, okay I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is-"**

**"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?"** Zacharias Smith demanded again.

"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, glaring at Zacharias like he had just done him a great personal offense. "Why don't you shut your mouth?"

**"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it,"** Zacharias continued stupidly. Bad idea.

**"That's not what he said,"** snarled Fred suddenly. How dare that tosser suggest that Harry was making this all up? Fred'd like to see him go through everything Harry did and see if he comes out alive. In fact...

But before Fred could do anything, George reached into one of their bag, steamed himself at the ignorant boy's interrogations. **"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?"** He pulled the long, metal stick out of his bag and waved it threateningly at him. He was pleased to see him blanch slightly. Perhaps he knew what it was and was afraid of what it would turn into, but George didn't really care for the reason.

Fred grinned internally at his brother, knowing that was a very George-thing to do. **"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this,"** Fred continued for him, staring Zacharias down as well.

**"Yes, well,"** said Hermione hastily, moving on. **"The point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"**

Everyone nodded and muttered their agreements, save for Zacharias. And after a long debate about Haliopaths (George gave up on trying to understand anything ever again), times when they should meet, and Quidditch practice, they all got up to sign a piece of parchment declaring their involvement of the group. After meeting Umbridge, George thought it was a brilliant idea. Plus, it might help him relearn some stuff.

**"Well, time's ticking on," said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. "George, Lee and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later."**

George and Lee followed him out, looking at him quizzically. "We do?"

"Yes," Fred grinned mischievously. "Something to teach that Zacharias bloke that he ought to keep his mouth shut."

* * *

><p>Reviews are very much loved :D<p>

P.S. My friend actually went to the Harry Potter place in Disney World, and tried Butterbeer :D She said it tasted like butterscotch-warmed-goodness :D haha just felt like sharing to anyone who's ever wondered what it would taste like :D


	7. Rockin' Out At Hogwarts

**Author's Note: **Hey there! Well, this is a rather silly chapter over all, hence the song, but I felt like it needed one :D Thank you all yet again for reading and to **Dreamer-.-LNYX**, **Pinkranger888**, **hachoo**, and **runeaglerun**, for reviewing! You know, it's really a writer's dream to see the same reviewers' names appear over and over again, so thank you a million times to everyone (you know who you are ;)) who helped me live that dream! :)

**Pinkranger888:** I know, right? When I read the Order of the Phoenix for the first time I wanted to punch Zacharias in the face too :P I was so pissed off at him because Harry went through so much and he was pressing him for details!

**runeaglerun:** Hey! :D No worries, my internet always goes out on me, whether there's a storm or not :P lol but I thought the meeting would be the perfect opportunity to introduce George to pranking so thank you very much :D

**Disclaimer: **Never have I ever owned Harry Potter :)

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Rockin' Out At Hogwarts**

_'Like it in the daytime, even more in the nighttime,  
>Meet you out on the grounds.<br>Sneaking past Lupin, looking for trouble,  
>After Filch's evening rounds.'<em>

**~ 'Rockin' Out At Hogwarts,' Gred and Forge**

"Stop breathing so loud!"

"Then stop standing on my foot!"

"Then stop moving the cage so much!"

"Me? _You're_ holding the other end!"

"Prat."

"Git."

"Takes one to know one."

"Oh stuff it, Fred," George retored irritably. "I'm not the one who's blind and seems to think my foot is your personal stepping stone."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Let's just get going before Filch shows up."

Smirking, George nodded. "I almost wish his _cat_ shows up so we can give it a good kick." He'd learned _all_ about those two.

"Don't jinx it," Fred warned, hauling his front end of the cage upwards. "Not that I'd mind kicking the cat," he added to his brother's disbelieving look. "But Filch would show up in a matter of seconds and I doubt being caught with this would be a good idea."

George sighed dramatically. "Oh, fine. Ruin my fun." They shuffled the rest of the way towards the Hufflepuff side of the school. Zacharias Smith was a Hufflepuff.

Somehow, the brothers huffed and puffed their way up to the door. Surprisingly, Hufflepuff didn't have a portrait as a door. It simply had a plain old wooden...door.

"Well that's special," George smiled amusedly.

"If we say or do the wrong thing, it is," Fred told him, smirking. "It shrinks everytime someone simply guesses until the door just vanishes."

"So...what happens if someone else comes along when it's gone?"

Fred shrugged. "I dunno. Let's not get to that point, though."

"So...what do we do?" George inquired as they both set down the cage, not wanting to have to turn back. He didn't bother to ask how Fred knew this if he was a Gryffindor.

Fred grinned, not saying a word. He simply walked near the staircase where the portraits hung. Fred studied the pictures carefully before he quick as lightning snatched a portrait off the wall and hurriedly pinned it to the door. George caught a glimpse of a part horse, part bird animal in the portrait before Fred bowed to it, staring at the creature carefully. He didn't blink as he held the gaze, and the animal, after a moment, bowed back.

The door swung open.

"Wow," George breathed. "That's more elaborate than ours."

Fred smirked yet again. "Hufflepuffs are supposed to be the most loyal and kindest of the four houses. And Hippogriffs are the most sensitive and easily insulted creatures." He shrugged. "It's what you have to do to prove you have Hufflepuff qualities."

George considered this. "So how'd _you_ get in?"

Fred smacked him on the shoulder. "Git. The better question would be how'd _Zacharias_ got in."

The ginger rubbed his shoulder and beamed brilliantly, grabbing the back of the cage again. "Good point. After you, dear brother."

Fred lead the way into the dorm and their footsteps became more quieted as they crept towards the male dormitory.

"Which bed is his?" George hissed, glancing around nervously at the other sleeping figures, praying that they were heavy sleepers.

Fred scanned the beds quickly before spotting a tuft of blonde hair and an annoyingly familiar face. "There's Zacharias," Fred grinned.

"Oh, good!" They snuck towards the bed and carefully lifted the bed covers up. They unlocked the cages and grabbed the stunned creatures within. "When're the Cornish Pixies supposed to wake up again?" George asked, fighting back a chuckle as they began shoving them in the bed.

"Around six in the morning," Fred answered happily.

"Brilliant."

They shoved the cage underneath the bed, making as little noise as possible, and booked it out of the dormitory and Hufflepuff Common room. They held back their giggles as they stormed into the Common room and burst out laughing.

"Oh, I can't wait to see his expression," George grinned, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Patience, dear brother," Fred laughed, clapping George on the shoulder. "Patience."

"That'll teach Zacharias to be such a prat," George chortled. "By the way, if Gryffindor's supposed to be for the brave, why don't be have to do anything, I don't know, heroic to get into our Common room?"

"'Cause anyone who'd want to pretend to be a Gryffindor and receive the wrath of the rest of us needs to be brave."

"Or stupid," George added.

"C'mon," Fred beamed widely. "Let's get some sleep."

* * *

><p>"Who did it!" roared an irate Zacharias Smith as he burst into the Great Hall the next morning. He seemed to have an idea, however, as he stormed right up to Fred and George.<p>

"Did what?" Fred asked innocently through a mouthful of pancakes.

"You know what," Zacharias hissed.

Harry and Ron were looking between the twins and Zacharias interestedly, while Hermione tried to block them out as she read a book.

"Oh, Fred, he's right," George said seriously. "We _were _the ones who blamed you for shaving Filch's cat."

"What?" Zacharias gaped. Harry and Ron snorted into their eggs, and Zacharias shot them a look. "I meant about the Cornish Pixies in my bed," he growled.

Harry grinned at them and they both winked before turning back to Zacharias. "That's horrible," George said grimly.

"Completely uncalled for."

"I mean, what could you have possibly done-"

"-To deserve pixies in your knickers?" They gave him a pointed look. Meanwhile, Fred was internally rejoicing at the fact that they were now finishing each other's sentences. It seemed their bond ran deep even with one of them had their memory erased. "I mean," Fred continued, not breaking eye contact with him. "It's not like you stole something-"

"-Or showed up for a meeting-"

"-Acted like a complete git-"

"-And called Harry a liar-"

"-About You-Know-Who."

They stared him down. Zacharias blushed angrily. "I'll have you expelled for this," he growled.

Ron snorted. "You can _try._ These two are like immuned from expulsions."

"Too right you are, Ron," Fred said.

"Besides, putting pixies in your bed hardly counts as a sufficient enough reason to get expelled," Hermione piped in, nose still buried in her book.

"Ha," George smirked.

"You'll get detention with Umbridge," Zacharias seethed.

"Do that and we will _all _come after you," Harry glowered.

Having no other option, Zacharias simply stormed off to his table. And they all, save for Hermione, burst into laughter. "Tell me you didn't," Hermione begged.

"Okay," George grinned.

"But you did," Harry said simply, beaming.

"Just tell me you shaved Mrs. Norris," Ron snickered.

"That, dear brother, is a possibility," Fred said airily. Turning to George, he nodded his head towards the entry way of the Great Hall, signaling for them to go. Nodding, George got up and with shared goodbyes the two twins left the Great Hall.

"Oi! Weasleys!"

Both brothers turned around to see Angelina coming towards them. "Practice is tonight, okay?" Turning to George, she asked, "Can you practice yet?"

Fear gripped Fred once more and he wildly turned to George. _No,_ he thought desperately. _He'll never be ready. Not after last time...God, if that happens again I don't think- _"Yeah, I'm good," George smiled.

"Wha-? No, actually, Angelina, he can't," Fred said firmly.

She glared at him. _"George _just said he was fine."

"Yeah, well, George doesn't know what he's saying."

"I think George can speak for himself, Fred."

"Yeah, only if you two would let him," George interupted irately. "Angelina, I'm fine. I'll be there."

She smiled. "Good. We need you back. Five o'clock, you guys." And with that she left.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Fred nearly shouted. It was a good thing the Great Hall was loud, or they'd have a rather large audience.

"Yes," George laughed.

Fred didn't find this amusing. "You know that's not what I meant."

George raised an eyebrow. "Fred, you've been with me practicing. You even said I'm nearly back to normal."

_"Nearly," _Fred emphasized. _"Nearly_ back to normal. And we haven't been practicing with real Bludgers!"

"Yes, only balls you bewitched to fly around and aim for me," George said dryly.

"That...that's different!" Fred insisted. _"They_ didn't make you lose your memory. And they only flew at you when you were ready! Bludgers will get you when you're not!"

"Fred, I'll be okay. I'm not afraid, so you shouldn't be either."

Fred looked at his feet. "You didn't see yourself when you got hit," he murmured.

The twin gave Fred's arm a reassuring squeeze and said, "C'mon, we better go get our stuff."

* * *

><p>"If you start getting worried, just tell me and I'll give you an excuse to go back down," Fred quickly muttered as they got dressed for the practice. "If the Bludger's coming too fast don't try to hit it, just dodge out of the way. Don't try to do something you are't ready for, because if-"<p>

"Fred," George said impatiently, though he was amused at his mother hen attitude. He kept his voice low so no one around them would hear. "I have a pretty strong feeling that this isn't the normal conversation we'd have before a Quidditch practice. Everything will be _fine."_

"And if it's not?" he demanded.

George shrugged. "Then you can kill me."

"That doesn't exactly comfort me."

His twin groaned. "You're acting like I'm about to face You-Know-Who himself." After the meeting at the Hogs Head, he drilled Fred for answers on everything he didn't understand.

"Can I help it if I only have one twin?" Fred hissed.

"Don't worry, I'll clone myself later," George rolled his eyes.

"No, cause then I'd have to deal with _two_ of you."

"If I'm such a pain in the arse, then you have nothing to worry about out there, do you?" George shot back.

Fred grinned, despite their argument. "You _are_ a pain in the arse, George. But you're _my_ pain in the arse." He ruffled George's hair, who batted him away.

"Oh, shove off, you prat," George grumbled. "We're twins so you're automatically a pain in the arse too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am-"

"Are you guys going to bicker all day or are you going to come out here?" Angelina asked, severely annoyed, peeking her head back into the change room. They hadn't even realised everyone else left already.

"We're coming," George beamed. Fred fidgeted beside him, but nodded.

"Then come _on!"_ she growled.

"Lovely, ain't she?" Fred murmured.

"Spectacular," George chuckled. "Let's go before she bites our heads off." The two tromped dutifully after their Captain. However, despite the speech he had given, George gulped a bit at the sight of the chest that contained the Bludgers. But he couldn't back down, otherwise when he was actually ready Fred wouldn't let him go back up without killing him first.

Fred was eyeing the chest with apprehension as well. He desperately wanted to just grab George and force him to sit in the stands so he could breathe easier. Fred was slightly amused with himself admist his panic. Just last year he was saying how there was no fun without a little risk, and here he was freaking out over a little Quidditch practice. He shook his head. He was acting crazy.

"Ready?" Fred muttered in George's ear, grabbing the bats and tossing one to his brother.

George swallowed and smiled. "'Course."

They kicked off from the ground and shot up into the air. Each felt the anxiety being left on the ground as they flew upwards to join the rest of their awaiting teammates. "About time," Angelina grumbled. Harry shot them a smile. "Take a few laps to warm up, everyone."

They did so, George paying extra attention to the slight movements of his broom and how to get into its rhythm. He tested out speeds and how much he had to rotate the broom to have it turn just right. George went about it as if he had never flown before, trying to make sure everything was alright and in sync.

When they were done with the laps, they flew back to Angelina who sat waiting for them. "Okay, we're going to do a bit of a scrimmage today. Katie, Ron, and Fred, you'll be one team. Alicia, George, and I will be another. Harry, you just search for the snitch."

Fred's throat went dry. "S-So...me and George will be aiming the Bludgers at each other?"

Angelina frowned. "Yes. You're Beaters. Are you new?" she scoffed, flying towards her end of the pitch.

George caught Fred's eye and they stared for what seemed like an eternity, both their hearts sinking. _They would be aiming for each other?_ He smiled weakly at his terror struck twin before turning around to join Angelina. George bit his lip anxiously, but he shoved it out of his mind. He trusted Fred. He wouldn't really aim for him, like he wouldn't.

Fred was pale as he flew towards Ron and Katie. This was the worst situation imaginable. He was actually expected to unseat his brother. The image of his brother lying on the ground, bleeding and unconscious shot through his mind and he shuddered. He couldn't do this...he knew he should've forced George off the field while he could.

Alicia flew down towards the chest and took out the Quaffle. She threw it over to Angelina who was hovering nearby, and went towards the latches of the Snitch and the Bludgers. George shook slightly. And then she unleashed them.

George didn't know whether or not she took out the Snitch, because the moment the Bludgers flew into the air, that was all he focused on. It moved with sinister precision, heading straight for George's head. He gripped his bat and his broom so tightly his knuckles turned white. Fred was right. Bludgers were _much_ different than bewitched Quaffles.

Fred panicked. He tore towards George and managed to knock it away from his twin before he could react. Thankfully no one saw as they were busy with playing their positions, or they would've gotten an earful. "I could've gotten it," George hissed, though there was a sliver of doubt in his voice.

He glowered back. "We are not dealing with the old you, George," he retorted. "As far as your memory serves you, you've never dealt with Bludgers before and I highly doubt you'll be able to play at your old level when you don't remember anything!"

The two hovered together for a second, staring off into oblivion. Fred's heart was pounding painfully fast against his chest. He would give anything right now to just make George skip this practice, both for his brother's safety and for his own piece of mind. Merlin knew that at the rate his heart was beating he was going to have a heart attack.

George, however, was ashamed. He shouldn't need his brother's help in everything. He shouldn't make Fred think he had to protect him. It was only one accident! Granted, it was an accident that made him lose his memory, but still! It shouldn't make everyone else have to change for him, because George was absolutely certain that Fred would never be this worried. If his awkwardness at the beginning of the entire situation was any indication. He said nothing, however, as he flew away from Fred.

The ginger sighed. _Great. He's mad at me._

However, being angry at his twin was the last thing on George's mind. In fact, he was currently biting his lip with a fierce determination. He _was_ going to hit a Bludger today if it was the last thing he did.

And barely after he formed those words in his mind, he got the perfect opportunity.

The Bludger was roaring towards him again, and this time he was sure that Fred was too far away to intervene. Not that he didn't hear him trying. George clutched at his bat, fear rising up in his throat as the flashback inched its way up from his subconscious. But he fought it back as he took a deep breath, closed his eyes just as it reached him, and swung.

_WHACK!_

He felt the heavy ball collide with his bat, creating a painful vibration to shoot up his now inexperienced arm, and spiral away. George opened his eyes instantly and watched with awe as the Bludger seemed to fly off towards the opposing half of the team.

Fred stopped right beside him and stared after it in awe. _"Brilliant!"_ he cried ecstatically, clapping George on the back. Pride and relief washed over him. "Bloody _brilliant!"_

His brother grinned stupidly and said, "Told you I could do it."

Fred said nothing as he ruffled George's hair and sped off, allowing his mind to put more effort into the scrimmage. Though he still kept one eye on George at all times.

At the end of practice no one could suppress their excitement at George's recovery. Harry, Ron, and Fred were doing a little victory dance as they cheered words of nonsense into George's ear. He couldn't stop himself from howling with laughter at the sight of them, clutching his sides as he rolled on the floor. No one seemed to mind, however, because everyone else was either basking in their good fortune, laughing, or cheering with the rest of them.

Fred and George couldn't remember ever feeling so light-hearted as they bounced towards the castle. They felt utterly invincible. "I say we celebrate!" Fred proposed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. For the first time in a while, he did not worry. "What should we do?"

"Something that involves Snape or Umbridge," George grinned. "Or both."

"That's my boy!" Fred beamed, clapping his shoulder again. He thought back to the promise he made to Dolores when George had come out of his first detention with her. He waggled his eyebrows mischievously. It was time he made good on his word. "Now who should we get first...?"

* * *

><p>"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!" yelled a highly irate voice from behind the twins. The two were playing an innocent game of chess, which George had gotten a right good scare out of when he realised they talked and clobbered each other.<p>

"What?" the brothers said together, plastering on a confused face.

"My office," Professor McGonagall hissed. "Now."

The identical gingers trumped after the professor, masterly concealed grins hidden beneath the blank expressions. They marched into her office and fought over the only chair in front of her desk before Professor McGonagall conjured up another one with a scowl on her face. Fred and George settled themselves into the chairs happily, smiling brightly up at Professor McGonagall like they hadn't a care in the world.

"Why?" Professor McGonagall finally asked. _"Why_ do you two insist on causing so much trouble? You two should know better."

"Well, on the contrary Professor, I have no recollection of the rules," George grinned cheekily. "So therefore, I _didn't_ know any better."

"Don't get smart," she said sternly, though she looked a little amused. "Professor Umbridge is _still_ trying to turn all her plates back from images of toads to cats. After, of course, someone turned her back from a toad herself."

"Oh come off it, Professor, you can't tell us you're upset that witch got what she deserved?" Fred remarked, flabbergasted.

"Yeah, we were only returning the toad back to her original form," George insisted.

"That is besides the point," Professor McGonagall said hastily. "And you will refer to 'the toad' as Professor Umbridge," she told them, looking like she strongly disliked having to inforce it. "The point is, no matter what our thoughts of the person, it is still against the rules. And honestly you two, what was the point of hexing Professor Snape so he can only walk on the ceiling?" The two burst out laughing. "He said it was - oh what was it now? - 'a completely unforgiveable piece of magic.'"

"Yes, but there are only three Unforgiveable Curses," Fred cut in quickly. "So that makes every other curse pretty much forgiveable."

George tried to muffle his snort, and both even fancied that the corner of Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched.

"That is most certainly not true, Mr. Weasley," she replied sternly. "You two are getting detention for a week. With Snape."

George looked immensely shocked. "You don't mean to tell me Umbridge didn't want to give us detention?"

Professor McGonagall frowned. "She did actually request you, Mr. Weasley," she nodded at George. Fred stiffened. "But seeing as having to spend your evening with her was punishment enough, I figured Snape would have to do," she gave a small smile. Fred and George laughed. "Both of you report to Snape's classroom at seven."

They made to leave, but Professor McGonagall interupted them. "And..." she looked like she was about to tell them something she shouldn't. "It really was a nice transfiguration," she admitted, her voice a little proud. "I'm glad to see you pay attention in my class."

Fred and George gaped at her. "Thanks Minnie!" Fred exclaimed, awe in his tone.

"Professor McGonagall," she reprimanded. "Remember, Snape's classroom at seven."

The two simultaneously saluted her and exited, unable to resist giggling the entire way at the thought that Snape's spell didn't ware off until tomorrow. It seemed like whatever Snape had planned, he would have to conduct it while he was upside down on the ceiling.

* * *

><p>Review please! :D<p> 


	8. I Gave You All

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! This is a little short, but it's point is to help George clear up a few things :) But thanks to **Dreamer-.-LNYX**, **hachoo**, **Moonlight900**, and **runeaglerun** as always for reviewing :)

**Moonlight900:** Hey! Thanks for reviewing, and I just want to say to not give up on the whole drama thing yet, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve ;) Haha and I completely agree with you on the emotional thing, I love stories like that too and I'm hoping to make this one just like that :)

To **hachoo and runeaglerun:** Loll I'm really glad you found it entertaining! :D I didn't think it'd be much of a Fred and George fic without _some_ pranks involved :D

**Disclaimer: **Mmm-mm, still own nothinngg.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**I Gave You All**

_'I close my eyes for a while.  
>And forced from the world a patient smile.<br>But I gave you all.  
>I gave you all.'<em>

**~ 'I Gave You All,' Mumford & Sons**

Several weeks past since George's first official practise and the twins found themselves heading to yet another DA meeting. After their first, Ginny (their sister) and Cho (a Ravenclaw) came up with the name, _'Dumbledore's Army.'_ Since, apparently, that was the Ministry of Magic's worst fear. And they were responsible for Umbridge.

The past few weeks had also been spent teaching George everything he needed to know. Fred and Ron told him everything about the Ministry of Magic, their family, and past experiences with their family (Fred sometimes creating a visual when it had something to do with pranking Ron), Hermione taught him about Transfigeration, Potions, and Hogwarts, while Harry would spend most of his time in the DA meetings helping George relearn spells. Lee, of course, would tell him all about their pranks at school, though Fred insisted on helping with that one too. Not to mention aiding in pulling more pranks.

All in all, it was rather overwheliming, and not much progress had been made overall, but they had the rest of the year and then some to teach him. He was now working twice as hard to keep up in his classes, with Hermione's help on homework and studying of course, and even Fred helped with this. George explained his reasons, albeit a little bitterly, why he bothered studying, as he had learned that they could technically leave Hogwarts in their seventh year. He told him that he didn't want to be left behind just because some accident wiped his memory. George wanted to prove to everyone that he was just as able as them, even though most didn't know yet.

Fred, of course, hated anything and everything that made his twin feel like he was not as good as everyone else, so he swiftly offered to help. He spent many nights up late refreshing his memory and learning things he hadn't bothered to before. George would normally already be passed out on his bed, his mouth agape and shivering slightly since he would be too tired to crawl under the covers and simply collapse on top of them. So Fred would gently pull most of the covers from his own bed and place them on his brother to keep him warm.

He didn't know why he was still protective of him. George wasn't in any more danger, he could play Quidditch just as well as he could before, and they had stayed out of Umbridge's bad books so far...but he just was. Fred couldn't explain it, but George was literally his _half._ He would do anything for him. Hell, he'd _die_ for him. It was an odd revelation, because he never had to think about it before. Normally they were care-free and simply lived to enjoy it. Now he realised the full extent of what could happen if they weren't careful.

But what Fred didn't know, or rather didn't think about, was George was pretty much thinking along the same lines. He loved Fred as much as a brother could, though he was never able to express it properly. Fred never needed _him._ It was usually the other way around, and he felt a little uncomfortable to tell Fred this because he had only known him for a little over four months. And, though he would never say it aloud because Fred would surely scold him for it (he _did_ act like a mother sometimes), he was secretly glad that it was _him_ that went through all that pain instead of Fred. He wouldn't want Fred to be the one who stayed up some odd nights, saddness and loneliness crashing over him. He would not want Fred to question yet again whether he would wake up and realise that all this was just a stupid fantasy. Or have the anxiety of trying to impress his brother. And the pain...oh the pain was horrendous. Not only because of the headaches (which were less severe thanks to the medication he got from Madam Pomfry), but to think of what it would be like to wake up and realise that his twin was not there to make him laugh or make him feel better when he was sad.

That, he thought, was worse than anything.

"You okay, Georgie?" Fred asked, regarding his brother with concern. He gave him an appraising look, like he was expecting him to confess something.

_I bet if I do wake up no one will call me 'Georgie,'_ he sighed. Sure, it was a childish nickname, but he didn't mind it when Fred called him that. If anyone else did, he'd hex them using one of the spells he'd learned from Harry. But Fred had 'Twin Rights' to that name. "Yeah," he lied, looking straight ahead.

Fred frowned, but said nothing. He knew George didn't tell him everything. He could almost _always_ tell when George was lying, but that didn't mean George was going to admit the truth. But something was eating at him, this Fred knew. He could see the turmoil in his eyes and he wished he just knew what it was. Though he thought he had an idea on one thing.

"C'mon, we better hurry or we'll be late," George remarked brightly, trying to get any and all attention away from him. Fred took the bait, albeit unwillingly, as they saunteered off towards the direction of the Room of Requirement, where their DA meetings were being held. They found a small group of people just entering so they slinked in behind them admist chatter and laughter.

"Erm," came Harry's slightly unsure voice. Even after several DA meetings, he still hadn't gotten used to the idea that he was in charge of everyone there. However, they all fell quiet as they looked up at Harry expectantly. "So...so far we've covered some of the basic spells, but I think learning the _'Reducto'_ spell can be right useful at times, and from what I've gathered, not a lot of people have mastered it successfully." There was a shuffle of embarrassed feet. "Not that that's anything to be ashamed of," he added quickly, looking a bit horrified that he might have offended anyone. Hermione nudged him and he then proceeded to explain the spell and demonstrate it for everyone on a dummy. "So, everyone split up into groups of three and take a dummy."

Harry made his way immediately over to Fred and George, leaving Hermione and Ron to find Neville. George gave him an appreciative smile. "Hey..." he whispered to him, giving him a sincere look. "Thanks." He couldn't ever explain to anyone how much their devotion to him meant.

Harry smiled back. "Don't mention it. You just worry about remembering."

Fred decided to make a mental note to never pull another prank on him ever again.

He watched as the dark haired boy performed the spell for George again, pointing out key facts to keep in mind. He kept his voice deliberately low so nobody would suspect anything. Harry also made a point of walking around every now and again to help anyone else who needed it.

"Hopeless, that kid is," Fred grinned as he watched Harry wander over to the other groups. "Brilliant, but hopeless."

George smiled timidly back, but a distant look overcame him, making his eyes zoom out of focus. Fred frowned internally. That look seemed to be appearing more and more as of late. "Oi, you going to attack the dummy or shall I?"

The ginger snapped out of it and made a dramatic gesture towards the dummy. "By all means, Fred, have a go."

Fred slashed his wand through the air and the dummy burst into a million pieces. George raised an eyebrow. "Remind me to never get on your bad side," he muttered as Fred moved his wand again to repair the dummy.

He smirked. "Let's see you now."

George immediately got nervous. Old insecurities that Fred had tried to squash came rushing back. _How can I be his twin if I'm not as good at things? Wasn't the old George just like Fred?_ "Oi, Earth to George." Fred waved his hand in front of his twin's eyes. George jumped. "I reckon you're losing it, mate."

George, a bit embarrassed, stuck out his tongue. _"Reducto," _he said, waving his hand and looking crestfallen when nothing happened. _I knew it._

"Ah, maybe next time," Fred reassured him.

Harry came back then, having seen George's failed attempt. "Here," he said. "Try brandishing your wand a bit more, and really _mean_ it when you say it. Yell if you have to."

Now, seeing only Harry, George felt his anxiousness slip away. _"Reducto!"_ he cried, and was only mildly surprised when the dummy exploded like it had for Fred.

"Excellent!" Harry exclaimed before Fred could say anything, clapping George on the back. "Really excellent!"

Fred scowled slightly behind their backs, feeling a bit excluded at the beam on George's face. However, when George turned to look at him, he grinned broadly. "Fantastic!" he assured his twin. He tried to tell himself that he looked a bit brighter when he spoke than Harry. He didn't know why it bothered him.

They continued like this for another hour before they were all dismissed to leave. But as soon as Fred and George got to their dormitory, George spoke up. "Christmas isn't too far away."

Fred looked round at him in the mid-dress, his pajama shirt half over his head. He was a little surprised at the random topic. "Yeah, I suppose."

George fidgeted on his bed, still fully clothed. "Well none...none of our family knows that I don't remember them, right?" Fred continued to stare at him, not seeing where this was going. "Don't you think...that we should tell them?"

Fred frowned for what felt like the tenth time that night. _But...it was supposed to be Gred and Forge. Not Gred, Forge, and the rest of the world. _"I...why?" he asked softly. "Isn't...isn't the two of us enough? I mean, sure we have Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lee too, but...we don't need anyone else, do we? They won't have to know, we've been telling you about them."

"I know..." George shifted again, idly tracing the shapeless designs on his sheets with his finger. "It just...it's not right to lie to your family, right?"

"Well, we're not _lying._ We're just not telling them," Fred revised.

"Yeah, but what happens when someone says, _'Remember when this happened, George?'_ I can't say yes without lying."

Fred smirked a little. "Since when have we ever cared about being honest?"

"I don't remember," George said dryly, a sudden heart dropping thought occuring to him. _Never cared about being honest..._"So...we were never ones to tell the truth, were we?"

His brother laughed, not noticing his twin's wary tone. "Never. I don't remember the last time I did," he joked. He seemed too wrapped up in fond memories to see the change in George's face.

_Lies...was it all lies?_ George stared at the wall. He knew they had to be twins, they looked too much alike to not be, but how did he know anything else was true? How _could_ he know? He didn't remember what they'd been like before. He didn't remember his past, his family...hell, this entire _school_ could just be a ruse!

George was getting quite paranoid. Ridiculously so. _Was that story about Harry even true? Were we even close, Fred and I?_

"George?"

He didn't answer, and simply crawled under his covers. Angry tears welled up inside him, but they didn't fall. Everything he'd been afraid of...everything Fred tried to console him about, came back like a bitter, sharp slap to the face.

Fred poked his shoulder. "Georgie?"

"Go away," George snapped.

Surprised, Fred shook his brother's shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I said go away!" George spat, venom in his voice as he knocked Fred's hand away from him.

Fred was stunned. _What just happened? _"George, what's wrong? Did I say something?"

Without warning, George shot out of bed, fire in his eyes. He gave Fred a look that was mixture of hurt, fury, and betrayal. Fred's eyes were wide as tried to process this while George stormed out of the room.

Admittedly, it took a good couple of minutes for Fred to realise he should go after him and demand what got into him. He trumped down the stairs and found himself stupidly surprised to find that George wasn't simply sitting there waiting for him. George never ran from him before.

"Where's George?" He asked loudly to the few people in the Common room.

"I dunno," Dean Thomas shrugged. "Left in a hurry, though."

Panic took hold of Fred as he raced through the Common room door, stopping only for a brief second to avoid trampling a couple of first year girls at the entrance. It never once occured to him that maybe he should probably borrow the map again to find his twin. He tore down the stairwell and ran every which way, searching helplessly. _Where are you, George?_

* * *

><p>George slumped along a corridor. Which one, he had no idea. But he really didn't care. He didn't plan on returning to the Common room or anywhere inhabited by people any time soon. He ignored the portraits, the passing ghosts, and even a poltergeist named Peeves. He figured Peeves must've liked him or something, because he soon gave up on teasing him when he made it clear that he was thoroughly not in the mood.<p>

He sighed and dragged his feet. _Fred might've lied to me. Probably did too, basically told me himself. _So what did he know that was real?

And as he thought this, he rammed right into a startled body and pitched backwards. _Well that's one thing,_ he thought dryly. Taken by surprise, George glanced up to see a rather old man staring down at him with concern and amusement. He had a long white beard, a crooked nose, and half-moon spectacles that sat in front of his piercing blue eyes. George got the crazy notion that he could see right through him.

"Are you alright, Mr. Weasley?" he asked.

George stared dumbly up at him, getting to his feet and ignoring the dull throb his backside gave. "Um, just fine," he replied uneasily, getting the sense that he should definitely know who he was. "Are you?"

"Splendid," the strange man said jovially. "Though I dare say you gave me quite a shock." He peered down at George again as though scrutinizing him. "Is there something troubling you?"

The ginger didn't know why he did it. He honestly had no reason other than he got the overwhelming feeling that if there was anyone whom he could trust, it would be this man. So, he told him everything. He confessed to him about his situation, his doubts, and his problems (though he left out the fact about Umbridge's detentions and the DA).

The man waited patiently for him to finish, never interupting and looking like there was no where he'd rather be than standing here listening to some student complain to him. "Well firstly, Mr. Weasley, it is a rather shame that I should know who you are, but you not know who I am." His eyes twinkled down at him. "I am Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

George's eyes widened. Hermione had told him all about Dumbledore, but he had no idea what he looked like. And he had almost just run him over. "Oh I...I'm sorry-"

But Professor Dumbledore simply waved his hand, smiling good naturedly. "Do not fret, my dear boy. You have a very good excuse to not know me. Most people don't." George stared in disbelief at the smile on Dumbledore's face, but refrained from comment. "Now, do correct me if I am mistaken, but you said that you are currently wondering whether any of this is real? Whether your brother had lied to you?"

George stared down at his feet and nodded. "I just can't find any proof that this is not just some crazy dream."

"Ah," Dumbledore remarked after a long pause, his blue eyes twinkling kindly once again down at him. "My dear boy, it matters not whether you can prove that something's real." He leaned closer to whisper, "It is whether you can _disprove_ it that makes it folly."

The younger boy stared up at him, astonished.

Dumbledore continued softly. "And unless I'm mistaken, I do not believe that Fred has lied to you. And no doubt he is searching for you right now."

George still looked astounded. He really hadn't thought about looking for evidence proving that magic _didn't_ exist. And really, had he found any? What with the DA and everything? Was that not proof enough that it was real? "I...thank you," he whispered. The pain was still present in his heart. He doubted it would go away so quickly, but at least he knew that it would. He moved to run down the way he had came. "Thank you very much Professor!"

"Anytime, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore called happily after him. George thought he heard him whistling to himself as he rounded the corner and sped up the stairs.

He raced to the Gryffindor tower, hoping that Fred would be in the Common room. Until he heard suspiciously familiar voices.

"Don't worry, we'll find him."

_Lee?_ He thought, surprised as he came to a halt. Why was Lee-?

"We've looked everywhere, though," came Fred's distressed voice. "And here I thought Harry was good at disappearing."

"Did you try looking around the corner?" George smiled, stepping around to stand in front of them.

Lee and Fred gaped at him. And then they exploded. _"Where were you?"_ They roared together.

George shrinked away from their wrath, but he kept his voice bubbly. "Just figuring some things out." He gave Fred a pointed look.

He got the memo. "Lee, can you give us a minute?" Fred asked.

Lee nodded, looking like he wasn't sure to be angry or happy with George right now. But, given his memory problem, he seemed to go with the latter, refraining from smacking him upside the head as he left.

George looked guiltily at his brother as soon as they were alone. "I'm sorry."

Fred sighed, running his hand through his hair and looking stressed. "What _happened_ with you? Why'd you blow up? Why'd you run away?" He gave his twin a very desperate look. "What'd I _do?"_

The other ginger grimaced. "Erm...well...keep in mind I had no recollection of anything before I woke up in the Hospital Wing, okay?" Fred nodded, his eyebrows knitting together. "Well, it's just that...ever since you told me about, well, magic and wizards and everything, I've kind of been waiting for me to just...wake up."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Wake up?"

"I thought this was a dream." His brother looked utterly bewildered, so George plowed on. "How was I supposed to know whether this wasn't some fantasy? I couldn't, and still can't, remember my past."

"Ah," Fred murmured, looking dazed.

"And, well, upstairs..." George looked ashamed. "When you said you couldn't remember the last time you told the truth..." he trailed off, his face going red.

Fred's eyes went wide. "Oh my...Merlin, George you didn't think...?" George nodded, and Fred looked horrified. "It was a joke!" he insisted, looking stricken. "I didn't know you were...I didn't think...I didn't lie to you, George, I swear!"

A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "I know," he said quietly. "I ran into Professor Dumbledore just now and he sort of made me see sense. I was being stupid. I'm sorry for freaking out."

Fred gave him a one-armed hug, tucking the ginger head underneath his chin. There was the remains of panic on his face, but more prominent was his relief. "S'okay, no harm done. Though you gave me a right good scare. I thought you ran off into the Forbidden Forest or something."

He nodded, looking at the ground again and murmuring another, "Sorry."

Fred moved back enough to sling an arm around his twin's shoulders as they walked back towards the Gryffindor tower. "No problem, brother o' mine. But how about we vent our feelings out on the old toad, eh?"

The ginger broke out into a wide grin, and the transformance was startling. "Fred, I think you read my mind."

* * *

><p>Review please :)<p> 


	9. Kryptonite

**Author's Note: **Ahh! Thank you to **hachoo**, and **Moonlight900** for reviewing! :D And a quick note: My updates are unfortunately not going to be as frequent since school's started and the work load is huge, which gives me less time if any to write :( Grrrr. But I'm trying my best! :) I'm really excited for later chapters haha :)

**Disclaimer: **In case someone skipped over the disclaimer in the last couple chapters, I unfortunately don't own Harry Potter. But I'm sure I'm not the only one who wishes she did :)

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Kryptonite**

_'You stumbled in and bumped your head  
>If not for me, then you'd be dead.<br>I picked you up,  
>Put you back on solid ground.'<em>

**~ 'Kryptonite,' 3 Doors Down**

"Mr. Weasley!" came a panicked voice through the fog of confusion and sleep.

"Whazzammph?" Fred groaned incoherently. He could faintly hear the breathing from his twin as he struggled for consciousness.

"Mr. Weasley! Wake up, now!"

Fred blearily opened his eyes to peer at a white faced Professor McGonagall. "Why?" he moaned, burying his face back into his pillow, her expression not registering in his brain.

"It's important," she said gravely.

Her tone more than anything got Fred's attention. He shot out of bed, and making sure that George was in fact right beside him in his bed and safe, he demanded, "Why? What happened? Is it Ginny? Or Ron or Harry?" he groaned again. "Merlin, it is Harry and Ron isn't it? Is Hermione with them?"

"Wake up your brother and follow me," she said softly. "I have to get your sister."

Relieved at least that Ginny was okay, Fred launched himself on to George. He yelped, flailing out as he fell to the floor and banged his head. He whimpered a little in pain as he opened his eyes.

"Oh, Merlin, George, are you okay?" Fred asked worriedly, staring at him with wide, guilty eyes.

The headache throbbed back to life. Now, he had gotten used to the slightly subdued pain thanks to the medication, but now it was back in full force. He whimpered again, clutching his forehead and attempting to rub out the pain. "Fine," he choked out, wincing terribly. But seeing Fred's horrified look, he said more confidently and reassuringly, "I'm fine. What's wrong?"

Fred looked unsurely at him, and said dully, "I dunno. Professor McGonagall woke me up. She said it was important and she didn't look happy."

"Well that's not good," George mumbled, getting up and swaying dangerously as the room spun around him.

Fred gripped his arm. "Blimey, George, do -?"

"I'm not going to Madam Pomfry," he said sternly, knowing exactly what Fred was about to suggest. However, he _was_ mightily dizzy. "Just...um, don't let me fall," he said quietly, an embarrassed flush creeping on his face.

Fred gave him an unfathomable look, somewhere between pity, guilt, and concern as he tightened his hold on his arm and led him out of the door. Professor McGonagall stood with Ginny, her face ashen, in the Common room. Ginny, whom George had never met since his accident, had no idea that her brother did not know her. She grabbed on to George's arm, whether it was because she saw how unsteady he was or she needed to calm herself and George was closer to her. The three of them looked at Professor McGonagall who took a deep breath. "I'm terribly sorry to tell you three this, especially so close to Christmas." Everyone looked at her fearfully. "Your father has been attacked."

All three mouths dropped open. Ginny gave a small sob. "How?" Fred croaked. George looked at him, fear rising up in him more powerful than before. Fred was never scared...Fred _couldn't_ be scared. It made George's insides twist sickeningly. "How do you know? What happened?"

Professor McGonagall looked sympathetic and regretful. "I do not know the details, but I'm sure more will be explained if you will come with me."

Fred, Ginny, and George all followed Professor McGonagall through the portrait hole and into the darkened hallway. They travelled down the corridor, and George vaguely registered in his pounding and fear-filled head that he had never been down this way before. He glanced at Fred, but he did not seem anymore worried than he was before, so George didn't trouble himself. As long as Fred was there, he would be okay.

Suddenly, there was a tug on his arms as both Ginny and Fred stopped and he had continued forward, nearly crashing in to Professor McGonagall. She had stopped in front of a large gargoyle. "Fizzing Whizzbee," she said quickly. George thought she had gone mad before it sprang to life and leapt aside. The wall behind it split in two and the staircase rose upwards, spiralling continuously. They all went on in single file, though Fred still kept a strong hold on his twin's arm as he stood in front of him on the moving stairs.

They burst through the door when they reached the top, and George finally saw where they had been heading. Professor Dumbledore stood before their dishevelled selves, looking much different from the twinkly-eyed, kind souled person who he had nearly run over a little while back.

"What's going on?" Fred demanded as soon as he walked in at the same time Ginny asked, "Where's Ron?"

"Please take a seat," Professor Dumbledore said solemnly, gesturing towards the three chairs in front of him.

Neither George nor Fred had noticed Harry or Ron huddling in the corner until Ginny piped up again, "Harry? Ron? Is that you? What's going on?"

Professor Dumbledore did not say a word until all three were seated. "I'm afraid something terrible has happened tonight."

"Dad got attacked," Fred said bluntly, angry at how long this was taking. "By what? How do you know?"

The Headmaster shared a look with Professor McGonagall as he spoke, "Your father was gravely injured by a large snake while doing shift work for the Order of the Phoenix. He is being transferred to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries as we speak. I will be sending you all to Grimmauld Place with Sirius. It is far more convenient that way."

"How do you know?" George inquired softly, staring right into Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes. Dumbledore knew he did not remember his father, so he took pity on him.

Professor Dumbledore answered, "Harry saw him being attacked."

Every pair of eyes shot towards the raven haired boy. He looked quite terrified himself. George felt horrible for him; he didn't seem to have a lot of happiness in his life.

"What do you mean he saw it happen?" Fred bristled. Deep down he knew it wasn't his fault, but he was just furious with the entire situation. George shot his twin a look, shaking his head slightly in warning.

A bright burst of flame suddenly appeared in front of them. "Fawkes's warning," Professor Dumbledore said quietly. "Minerva, head Professor Umbridge off while you can. Tell her any story."

"Of course," Professor McGonagall responded, leaving them with a billow of her cloak.

Professor Dumbledore wasted no time pulling out an old kettle. "You all have used a Portkey, yes?" There was a chorus of head shakes, while George stared at the Headmaster, dumbstruck. _What's a Portkey?_

Fred grabbed on to George's wrist, muttering low so no one else heard, "Follow my lead."

"Good," Professor Dumbledore replied, not noticing George's confusion. "Everyone stand. On my count...one...two..."

They all reached for the kettle, Fred pulling George's hand forward with him.

"Three."

There was a jolt as George founded himself thrust forward. He resisted the urge to yell out in surprise as his shoulders bumped roughly against the people around him. The spinning stopped as they all crashed to the floor, the kettle clanging on the wooden surface. George tumbled to the ground, hitting his head hard against the wood as he landed. Pain flared up in his head yet again and he fought off the darkness that threatened to consume him. He groaned slightly to himself, faintly aware of the fact that his eyes were closed. _How many bumps to the head can I take before I go completely bonkers?_ he mused as someone pulled him up.

"Are you alright? God, you hit your head, didn't you?" Fred whispered, sounding absolutely panicked.

"S'okay," George got out, black spots appearing before him as he opened his eyes. He blinked several times to try and get rid of them. Honestly, he didn't know how he was standing with the room twirling around like that. Maybe if he just didn't move he'd be okay. George could barely think as the war raged on in his mind. "Nothing I can't handle." That didn't exactly pacify Fred. He gripped his arms tightly, looking as if he was wondering whether he should send him to St. Mungo's himself.

"Why are we here?" Ron demanded loudly. Everyone turned to Harry.

Harry looked defiantly back. "I didn't do this." Though he appeared uncertain.

A straggly looking man came into view. He had dark hair that was on the long side, a gaunt yet kind face, and haunted, concerned grey eyes. "What happened?" he asked urgently. George presumed this man was the 'Sirius' person that Professor Dumbledore had mentioned. But upon seeing their mutinous faces, he mended quickly, "Nevermind, we can talk about it later. Let's all just...relax and wait for news."

"What?" Fred said incredulously. He looked furious. "Let's all just sit and _wait?_ Our dad is _dying!"_ George flinched a little at the venom in his voice.

"I know that," Sirius said patiently. "I do not know how it happened, but your dad is being taken care of at St. Mungo's. There's nothing we can do for him now."

"We can go see him!" Fred roared. "Instead of waiting here to see whether he's dead or not!" Ginny gave another small sob and Ron went to wrap his arms around her, his face pale.

"Fred," George said softly, "just listen to him-"

"Just because _you_ don't bloody remember him doesn't mean he's not important to the rest of us!" Fred retorted in an accusing tone, fire in his eyes, before he realised what he was saying. And who he was saying it to. George looked like he'd been slapped. Fred's eyes went wide. "Oh my God...I didn't mean that -"

"What does he mean?" Ginny demanded, staring at George.

"Nothing," Fred whipped out, still looking horrified and angry.

"We'll just sit down," George said quietly, not looking up as he moved towards the chairs in the living room. The world had slowed down enough to make it look like he was at least half sober as he made his way across the room.

If he didn't feel more like an outsider before, he certainly did now.

George could feel Sirius looking at him suspiciously, but he simply said in a forced cheery voice, "That's right...let's all...let's all have a drink! _Accio_ Butterbeers!"

Fred hovered by the chair beside his twin for a second before he sat down. He just kept saying the stupidest things! _Why _didn't his brain come with a filter! "George -"

"It's fine," he cut him off, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. But he still didn't look up from staring at the ground in front of him.

The ginger ran his hand through his hair, cursing himself. "I'm sorry," he whispered sincerely before George could interupt him again. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Not the first time. I reckon I should get used to it."

Fred grimaced. "That's not how this is supposed to work."

The brief chatter that surrounded the two gave them what little privacy they could possibly have. "But it's going to happen anyway," George replied, glancing up into Fred's face. "We both know that. So when it does, we can just not make a big deal out of it." His eyes were unreadable, all emotions carefully masked behind his eyes. In fact, they were blank.

He wanted to argue that point. Wanted to with all his might. But he knew George was right. He would say something stupid and hurtful in the future like he was wont to do, so it was best now to just learn to let it go. "That doesn't mean I like it," Fred said softly, remorse clear in his voice.

"Not saying either one of us has to, but we can't help the fact that you're a git," George smirked.

Fred pretended to look hurt. "Well, if I was such a git, I wouldn't have put up with you for so long." His eyes went huge again. "Oh my God, I -"

"Ah."

"But -"

"Uh-uh."

"George -"

"Shh!" George clapped one hand over Fred's mouth while he held a finger up to his lips. "Not another word," he chortled good-naturedly.

Fred yanked his brother's arm down and gave him a contemplative look. He seemed genuine about it, and he thanked Merlin that he had someone like George who was willing to accept his brashness without hesitancy. Fred leaned over and gave him a hug. "Thanks," he said sincerely.

George smiled, hugging him back. "Any time."

No one noticed their little conversation as they all settled into a span of silence, sipping on their Butterbeers while they waited for news about their father. Every now and then Fred would ask under his breath how George felt, knowing his two accidents of smashing his head against the floor, and every time George would say he was fine.

In actuality, George was anything but fine. He felt like if he allowed himself to give in to the pain, he would slip into unconsciousness and never wake up. He battled constantly with the throbbing and the pounding, wanting nothing more than to scream and beg someone to take it away; it was pure torture. But he couldn't. It was not his place to make other's worry about him, especially when their dad was in a graver situation than he was. It was only a bad headache, right?

He glanced over at Harry, who seemed just as pale as everyone else. George felt bad for him, knowing that he must feel responsible for witnessing it, however he did so. It just seemed like his personality, given what he had heard from everyone, to feel guilty for things he had no control over. He offered a smile in his direction, hoping it would ease his worry. Harry gave a weak smile back, though he still clutched his Butterbeer like it was his lifeline.

Finally, after many long, stressful hours, a plump woman with fiery red hair suddenly burst through the kitchen. Everyone got up, holding their breath for her to say something. She smiled tiredly. "He's okay. We can all go see him later, he just needs his rest right now. Bill's with him. He's going to be alright."

Ginny gave out a strangled cry and hugged the woman whom George presumed was their mother. He'd never seen any pictures. _Huh...I don't even know my own mother,_ he thought gravely, and he felt lonely because of it. Even his own mother was a stranger to him.

Harry gave out a sigh of immense relief while Ron gave out a shaky laugh and downed the rest of his Butterbeer. Fred simply leaned back in his chair, covering his face with his hands. George didn't know what to do. So he simply stared off into the distance, relief clear on his face. Though he did not remember Mr. Weasley, he was incredibly glad he was okay.

"Let's have some breakfast then!" Sirius declared happily, smiling widely. "Kreacher!"

George raised an eyebrow, looking around. _Creature? Where?_

"Where's that blasted house-elf?"

He was even more confused. _The creature's a house-elf? And more importantly, they _call_ it 'Creature?' What? It'd make more sense to shout 'house-elf!' than that._

"Ah well," Sirius shrugged. "We can make it ourselves."

Fred chuckled at the look on his twin's face. "Kreacher's the name of Sirius' house-elf," he told him quietly. "Not, you know, _creature, _but...you get what I mean."

"Oh, right," George responded, sounding like it in fact meant anything to him. He paused. "What's a house-elf?"

Shaking his head, Fred said, "I'll tell you later. C'mon, let's eat."

* * *

><p>"Here're your rooms," Sirius said, opening a door to a dark, musky room. "I'm sorry for the conditions," he apologised. "We're still cleaning."<p>

"It's fine," George said, giving him a small, appreciative smile.

Sirius nodded before leaving. Fred sighed, flopping on his bed face down. He groaned into the pillow.

George softly walked forward, sitting on the edge where Fred's feet lay, not sure what to do. This was the first time he'd ever seen Fred at a loss. "You okay?"

Fred mumbled something into his pillow but didn't raise his head. George didn't know what to do; he'd never had to comfort someone before. He scooted slowly and nervously closer, patting Fred's head a bit clumsily. "Erm...it'll be okay, Fred," he said awkwardly, though he tried to hide it. "Dad'll be okay. That lady...oh, I guess Mum...said that he was fine. You shouldn't worry." He bit his lip, trying to stop his face from screwing up in pain. If only he could just get the medicine downstairs in his trunk...

His twin lifted his tussled head to smirk wearily at George. "Haven't you realised by now that all I ever do is worry anymore?"

George frowned. "Well you shouldn't have to. Everyone is fine."

Fred sat up, looking dead into his brother's eyes. "Are they?" he asked accusatorily. Almost angrily.

George was confused. "Um, yeah? Unless you know something I don't."

"Oh, I don't think it's me that's hiding things," Fred said in a deadly calm voice. His eyes were dark, which was startling since they were normally a light shade of blue, just like George's was. "Why haven't you told me your head was still bothering you?" he hissed.

Shocked, George instantly froze. "W-What?" he stammered. _He's not supposed to know!_ "My head's fine."

"Is it?" he glared. "I have eyes, George. I _know_ it's bothering you! What bothers _me_ is that you tried to hide it from me!"

"Why does it matter?" George asked, still bemused. "I'm handling it."

"By doing what? Wishing it away?" Fred scoffed, eyes flashing. "There could be something seriously wrong with you!"

"Oh, God forbid it be something _serious._ Because having no memory is just a walk in the park!" he shot back.

"I'm not saying it is!" Fred growled. "But it could be something _worse!"_

George dropped his angry visage and gave him a pleading look. "Fred, you're just upset that Dad got attacked. And you've been up all night. Let's just forget this whole thing ever happened."

"Damn it, George!" Fred cried furiously, causing his twin to flinch away from his wrath. "Do you not care what happens to you _at all?"_

"Erm...well I'm still alive so I'm assuming I do," he joked half-heartedly, sounding a little more than nervous.

Fred looked like he very much wanted to hit him right now. "Do you honestly think this will just go away on its own?"

"Well, it could just be an after effect from the accident," George mumbled.

"Four months later?"

George shifted uneasily, wishing none of this had ever happened. Fred had never been angry with him before. "I'm dealing with it, okay?" he said. "It's my body, isn't it? And I've already been to Madam Pomfry for pain medication so just leave it."

Fred looked surprised. "You went to Madam Pomfry? When?"

"Few months ago. Dunno, really," he shrugged, looking anywhere but at Fred.

Deciding against asking him when he went to get it and why he didn't tell him, Fred demanded suspiciously, "Does it work?"

"Erm...yes."

"You really suck at lying."

"Well, it does work," George said evasively. At Fred's pointed look, he continued, "Just not as well as I want it to."

Fred groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You're killing me, Georgie."

George sighed sadly. He _knew_ it. Why must he always make Fred think it was a big deal? He was _fine._ Absolutely fine! "Then let me get out of your hair." He made to stand up, but Fred gripped on to his wrist tightly.

"Don't you dare," he growled menacingly. He yanked on his arm so George tumbled back on to the bed. And before George could do anything but look taken aback, Fred pulled him into a fierce hug, tucking the ginger head underneath his chin. "You're not leaving my sight now," he mumbled.

Perhaps it was because George was his twin and best friend that made him so protective. Or maybe it was the knowledge that he was hurting and he was still trying to get over the fact that their Dad was in the hospital and he wasn't about to let another family member get injured again. Or maybe it was all three, but whatever the reason, Fred knew he needed to find a way to help. It had to be hard enough not to remember anything, but to be in severe pain while trying to regain his memory? Fred muttered a low oath under his breath as he hugged him. He _was_ going to fix this.

George relaxed into the embrace, smiling a little at the fact that no matter how lonely he may feel sometimes, he never was or would be. "You should sleep," he murmured, though he did not make any attempt to move away.

"So should you, but I get the feeling you're not going to."

"I will once I get my...erm, medicine," George went a bit pink from embarrassment as Fred pulled away.

Fred merely looked amused. "Then go get it, you git."

George mock glared. "Well I would've if you hadn't had me in a death grip."

"Unless you go right now, I'll do something worse," Fred threatened playfully, fingers poised for attack. His eyes gleamed mischievously, counting down in his head. _Three...two..._

Oblivious, George started, "What do you mean wor-"

But it was too late. Fred launched himself on top of his twin, tickling his ribs mercilessly.

"Fred!" George screeched in between his peals of laughter, trying to get as far away from his brother as possible. Fred had crawled on top so he was sitting on George's legs to keep him in place as he continued his assault. "Let me up," he gasped, tears now running down his face from the extent of his laughing. He smacked at Fred's fingers but no matter how hard he tried, Fred found ways in between them. Fred was relentless.

"Oh, I don't think so," he grinned evily, increasing his efforts. George was visibly writheing in his attempts to stop his brother, howling all the while.

"FRED! GEORGE! WHAT IS ALL THAT SCREAMING ABOUT!" came a very irate voice.

Fred immediately stopped and hopped off of his twin. George groaned, chuckling a bit as he rolled on to his stomach and smushed his face into the ground. "My stomach hurts," he moaned, wiping his eyes.

But Fred shushed him, straining his ears for anymore yelling. A few moments passed before the ginger grinned at George on the floor. "You were the one who waited too long." There was no answer. Fred shook his shoulder, still beaming stupidly. When George didn't answer again, Fred rolled him over and saw with horror that George's eyes were closed and looking quite unconcious. "Oh my God...George?"

George suddenly shot up, tackling his shocked brother to the floor, laughing with mirth as he began wrestling with him.

"Prat!" Fred half-chuckled, half-yelled, rolling on the ground.

His brother smiled widely with triumph as they continued to battle. "S'what you get, you tosser!"

There was loud stomps on the stairs until their door flung open. _"What are you two doing?"_

The two beamed up at Mrs. Weasley. "Nothing," they chorused.

She gave them a searching look, as if deciding between being stern and or just letting it go. Apparently, due to recent events, she decided to go with the latter. "Well, just be ready for later because we're going to see your father."

"Really?" Fred jumped up, looking at their mum. "He's okay to be visited?"

Mrs. Weasley gave him a small smile. "Yes."

He gave out a loud whoop while George stood, smiling widely at the Mum he did not recognise. "How's Harry doing?" George asked suddenly, remembering the look on his face while they waited.

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "Sleeping I should expect. The poor dear looked exhausted." She gave them appraising looks. "And so do you two."

George nodded. "We'll go to bed as soon as we get our trunks."

"I got it," Fred said quickly, disappearing out of thin air. George had to fight hard to keep the utter shock from showing on his face as Mrs. Weasley left.

Fred returned a second later, holding on to two trunks. George gaped at him. "What?" he asked before realisation dawned on him. "Oh, I just Apparated. I'll teach you how to do it later."

The ginger just stared at his brother before he shook his head and reached for his own trunk. He grabbed the bottle that was hidden in his sock and took a swig. Immediately the pain in his head dulled a bit. He smiled lazily, glad for even the little relief.

"Are you okay now?" Fred prodded worriedly, scrutinizing his brother carefully.

George shrugged. "It's better."

"But not good."

"Not even close."

Fred sighed. "You can sleep, though, right?" George nodded. "Well that's a start at least." Fred wandered to his bed, watching cautiously as George made it to his, looking for any signs of discomfort. "G'night, Georgie."

"Night, Fred."

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><p>Reviews are lovely little surprises :)<p> 


	10. Unwell

**Author's Note: **Ahh! I know! It's been basically a week! D: Sorry it took so long! School's murder. Gah, but It's up now! And hopefully I can do some major writing so I can get the next chapter up quickly! :) But thanks so much to **SaphireEyedDancer**, **Moonlight900**, **hachoo**, and **runeaglerun** for reviewing! :D

**hachoo:** THANK YOU SO MUCH! :D I'm glad you liked those parts! :D haha you're just awesome for letting me know what you liked :D It makes ME feel awesome! :D

**runeaglerun:** Thank you! I'm extremely, geekily (yes, I _have_ invented a new word :D) happy that you're enjoying my story! :D And that you reviewed :D hehe and that I've done well with the emotional aspect of the story :D That just made my day :D

**Moonlight900:** HEY THERE! :D I can't tell you how happy I am that you check for my story! It makes me all giddy haha I hope I make your weekend with _this_ chapter!

**SaphireEyedDancer:** Hiya! I'm really glad you read my story and liked it! I hope you enjoy this too! :)

**Disclaimer: **Okay, I'm pretty sure everyone knows by now that I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm pretty sure also that everyone's getting tired of seeing this up. But, bare with me here :P

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

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><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Unwell**

_'I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell,  
>I know, right now you can't tell.<br>But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see,  
>A different side of me.' <em>

**~ 'Unwell,' Matchbox 20**

The Weasleys, Harry, Moody, and Tonks (as George learned to call them) were hurrying down the street in the very heart of London. George didn't know what they were looking for, and he got the impression that neither did Harry. However, he was too busy being utterly fascinated by the trains, the cars, the shops...everything that was completely new to him to really care too much. He would ask excitedly what everything was, and watch as Fred gave him an amused look every single time before explaining what they were. He had never seen any 'Muggle' things before, so he was nearly as bad as Mr. Weasley was according to Fred. They made sure to keep their voices quiet so no one would become suspicious. Though George could've sworn he saw their Mum give them a few curious glances.

George was still a bit nervous walking around with a bunch of people he didn't know, especially is such an open area, so he kept as close to his brother as he could. If Fred minded, he didn't say a word. They soon found themselves facing an odd looking store with the name _'Purge & Dowse Ltd.'_ on it. The sign on the doors read: _'Closed for Refurbishment.'_

"Er...what are we doing here?" George asked Fred in case this was something he should know.

But before Fred could even react, Tonks said, "Right, everybody ready?"

_Ready for what?_ George thought wildly, but nodded as everyone else did. He really hoped it wasn't anything too bad.

"Wotcher," Tonks said quietly to the glass. More specifically, a raggedy dummy. Before, George would've thought her mad, but he had long since accepted that a lot of strange things were going to happen that are supposed to be perfectly normal. So he said nothing. "We're here to see Arthur Weasley." He fancied that the dummy almost nodded at her and twitched her long index finger for her to move forward. She grabbed Ginny and Mrs. Weasley and vanished right through the glass.

George raised an eyebrow at Fred, the only visible sign that he was surprised by any of this, before the two followed suit, accompanied by Ron. They found themselves not in a store, but in a crowded reception area with rows and rows of people in rickety wooden chairs. George had to stop his jaw from dropping at the abnormalities that sat before him. There were people with extra limbs, gruesome scars, and whenever some moved, it sounded like a thousand bells clanging together went off. His favourite, however, was a man who seemed to think he was an animal - a 'monkey' from what Fred told him, whatever that was - and kept climbing the walls. He would grunt and screech at the people who seemed like they worked here as they tried to get him to come down. It was rather entertaining.

"Hello," Mrs. Weasley said as she stepped at the front of the queue. "My husband, Arthur Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us -?"

"Arthur Weasley?" repeated the lady at the counter, glancing at a rather large list in front of her. It spiraled downwards and George saw the tip of it peeking out from the side of the desk. "Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn Ward."

"Thank you," Mrs. Weasley told her sincerely. She turned back to the group behind her. "Come on, you lot."

They all trooped after her as they walked down a long corridor. There were many moving portraits surrounding them and odd shaped lights floating above. George was a bit unnerved, so he stepped even closer to Fred, nearly walking on his heels. He felt spooked by the whole interior, and the occassional moaning didn't exactly help.

Fred had truthfully never been to St. Mungo's before, so everything was as new to him as it was to George. But he tried not to show it for his brother's sake, because he knew by the look on George's face when he freaked out about their Dad that he needed him to be the strong one for a change. It was odd, because normally George played that role. Sure, he was younger by a few minutes, but George was always the more responsible and thoughtful of the two. Fred was the one to say whatever it was that came to mind and pull pranks without thinking of the consequences. George was always there to pull him back a bit and make sure no one got hurt.

They travelled up a flight of stairs, and the whole while Fred kept glancing behind him to make sure George was okay. He could sense his uneasiness coming off of him in waves. They came to a stop in front of the second door to the right, and he vaguely heard Tonks mention something about only family visiting, but he really didn't care who went in and who didn't; as long as he got to see with his own eyes that his father was okay.

They all rushed in, Harry in tow, and found that it was really a rather small ward. There was one window, which wasn't very large mind you, that was the only way the people could tell whether it was night or day. There were only three patients including their Dad, who lay in the farthest bed from the door.

George looked at the red haired man beaming as they approached, and felt a pain of sadness at the fact that he did not know his father, and he might never had gotten to know him. "Hey there!" he announced, surprisingly cheerful. "You just missed Bill, but he said he should be back to greet you all later."

"How are you doing?" Mrs. Weasley asked worriedly, coming to his bedside.

"Oh, I'm fine," Mr. Weasley beamed, beckoning a teary eyed Ginny into a hug. "Once they take these bandages off I'll be perfect to go home."

"Why can't they take it off yet?" Fred asked, trying his best to ignore the gauze.

"Oh, because apparently there was some venom in the snake that keeps the wounds open so every time they try I bleed like mad," Mr. Weasley replied as brightly as he could, despite the looks on everyone's faces. "Don't worry," he said quickly. "They reckon they'll find the antidote soon. They said they've had worse cases than mine." That didn't exactly soothe anyone.

But suddenly, Fred seemed to get an idea. "I'll be right back," he whispered quickly to his twin before he took off running from the room. He couldn't believe he didn't think of this before...and he was in the perfect place! Heart pounding in his ear, Fred sprinted back down to the reception area. He shoved past the person in the line and panted, "Hi, is there anyway I can talk to a Healer?"

Looking affronted, the witch replied in a stern voice, "Sir, if you wish to see a Healer, you must wait your turn."

"No, it's not for me, I just need to ask him or her a question," Fred implored. "Please, just a five minute conversation. Not even that."

She gave him an appraising look while the man Fred had shoved aside muttered angrily to himself. "Alright. Go to the fourth floor, fifth door on your left. There's a Healer who is currently on his break and might be willing to talk to you for a few moments."

"Thank you!" Fred cried, racing away again. "Thank you!" He flew up the stairs, taking two at a time. He didn't want to take too long in case someone started to wonder where he ran off to. _Fifth door on left,_ he thought. _One...two...three...four...aha! _He knocked on the door quickly, holding his breath for a response.

"Come in," came a deep, welcoming voice.

"Erm...hi," Fred greeted awkwardly, opening the door and peeking his head in. "Sorry to bother you, but, er, I needed to talk to a Healer and I was told you were available."

The man had dark skin, brown eyes, and was bald. He looked rather tall too, event though he was sitting at his desk clearly taking a break. However, he smiled warmly and amusedly at the unexpected visitor. He was laying _The Daily Prophet_ on his desk as he said, "You were told correctly." He held out his hand, "Franklin Rikialria."

"Er...Fred Weasley," he told him, taking the man's hand. He was relieved he wasn't angry at him for intruding on his break time.

"Have a seat," Mr. Rikialria said, conjuring up a rather comfy looking chair before his desk. Fred sat. "Now, you have a question?"

"Yeah," Fred rushed out. "You see, my twin got in to an accident a few months ago where he got hit in the head with a Bludger and he lost his memory and he's been having these really bad headaches...is there a reason for that?"

"Hmm..." Mr. Rikialria said thoughtfully. "Did he lose consciousness?"

"Yes," Fred replied, wincing slightly. "There was a lot of blood."

"How long was he out for?"

"Erm...three days I think."

Mr. Rikialria frowned. "Was he cared for properly? Do you know what they did for him?"

Fred shrugged. "I think so, I mean, our school's Healer is really great. Why?"

"Well," Mr. Rikialria said slowly. "He should have had headaches at the start, but after a month or so they should have gone away. To be honest, I can't be sure what's wrong unless I take a look at him."

"But it'll be something you can fix, right?" Fred asked worriedly.

"I would need to see him," he stated simply.

"And his memory?" Fred insisted. "Will it return?"

"Mr. Weasley, I cannot tell you anything unless I see him. Or someone sees him, it doesn't have to be me," Mr. Rikialria responded patiently.

"Can I go get him then?" Fred offered eagerly.

Mr. Rikialria chuckled, eyes twinkling. "For that to happen, you would need to schedule an appointment. This is merely me answering a question."

Fred nodded in understanding, standing up. "Thank you."

"Goodbye ."

The ginger hurried down the stairs to the first floor, to find Harry, Ron, George, and Ginny looking quite disgruntled outside of the door. "What're you doing out here?" Fred gasped, coming up next to them. "Nevermind, George, I need to talk to you."

"What is it?" George asked, allowing himself to be pulled away.

"Oi!" Ron bellowed after them. "Fred, do you have the Extendable Ear on you?"

Fred took it out of his pocket and chucked it at his head before he tugged George farther away. "What is it?" George repeated, sounding a bit annoyed now.

"Forge, we need to make an appointment with the Healer."

George raised an eyebrow, whether at the name or the idea, Fred wasn't sure. "Yeah, um, _why?"_

"Your headaches, remember?" Fred said excitedly.

But George's face paled. "No way," he shook his head ferverently. "Not a chance."

"What?" Fred cried, looking at George incredulously."What do you mean 'no?' George, we could finally find out why you get these headaches, why you're memory's still gone -"

"Oh, so you're only doing this to get the old George back, right?" George demanded angrily, his temper flaring up.

"What? George, no! I'm _trying_ to figure out how to help you!"

"I don't need help!" George yelled. "I'm _fine!" _He started pacing in front of him, rubbing his forehead where a bad headache brewed subconsciously. "So that's where you ran off to? To discuss me with some Healer?"

"George, look at you!" Fred growled, waving his hand at his brother. "You are not fine! You need help, whether you want to admit it or not." At George's disgruntled look, Fred pleaded, "You're in _pain,_ George. Don't you want it to go away?"

"What I want is for you to just leave it alone," George ordered. "I. Am. Fine."

Fred swore under his breath. "Merlin, George, what is with you and getting help? Why can't you just let someone fix your problems _for once." _

"For once? Fred, I've _never_ done anything by myself," George replied in what he hoped was a calm and pleading voice, running a hand through his hair. "Ever since I woke up I've been depending on other people. I just want to do this one on my own."

"But this isn't the right thing to decide to fix by yourself!" Fred insisted. "This isn't something you _can_ fix on your own!"

George just stared at him. "Fred, I'm fine. I don't need to see a Healer, and you need to stop worrying about me."

But Fred just continued to look distressed. He didn't think George was fine. Mr. Rikialria obviously didn't think he was fine. And despite what George said, even _he_ probably didn't believe he was fine. Why couldn't George just see that?

"Come on," his twin broke through his thoughts. "Let's get back to everyone."

But as he made to leave, Fred caught his arm. "I don't care what you say, you're not allowed to make this decision on your own. It may be your body, but we're one person, George. I don't want to fight with you about your own health."

George stared down at his feet for a few moments, letting what he said sink in, before he mumbled, "I'll think about it."

Getting the feeling that this was about as much headway as they were going to make for the day, Fred nodded. He was glad at least that he agreed to even think about it. They walked in silence back to Ron, Harry, and Ginny to find them looking quite disturbed. "Er...what's wrong?" Fred asked cautiously, afraid that they might've overhead their conversation.

Ron and Ginny's eyes strayed to Harry, and Harry avoided everyone's gaze. He seemed shaken. "What happened?" George pressed.

"Nothing," Harry snapped, glaring at a startled George.

"Oi," Fred said angrily. "Don't get mad at him. It was just a question." He gave him a stern look, and Harry had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Er...s'okay," George replied uneasily, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He could feel Ginny's piercing gaze on him, and he didn't want to say anything wrong.

Thankfully, the door swung open and Mrs. Weasley stood smiling brightly at them. "Come on you lot, let's go home."

* * *

><p>George couldn't sleep yet again. He could hear Fred's familiar snores in his bed, but he felt...odd. Almost like a tingling sensation that ran down his back. It wasn't painful or anything, it was just weird, and it kept him awake. It was almost like the feeling was trying to tell him something.<p>

Huffing with frustration and over exhaustion, George sat up in a slump. He glanced at Fred's sprawled out body and felt the insane urge to giggle; he never realised how ungraceful Fred was when he slept, since there were drapes around the beds at Hogwarts. Fred's mouth was gaping open and his face was half hidden as it smushed against the pillow. George couldn't tell the difference between a leg and an arm, so it was a wonder how Fred slept at all.

However, George was restless, and couldn't simply make fun of his brother's position anymore to keep him occupied. Getting up, he grabbed his wand and tip toed to the door, wincing at every creak and throwing his head to stare at Fred in case he woke up. It seemed that with every step forward, Fred seemed more disturbed, almost like he could sense his twin leaving the room. He shifted in his sheets and made funny mumbling noises before snores over took him again.

George snuck through the door, murmuring a hushed _'Lumos' _and watched happily as a light formed at the tip of his wand. One of the many useful spells he had been taught. He roamed aimlessly, careful to be as silent as possible. He held his wand up to check the walls, looking to see if any portraits were up to a midnight chat. But they all snapped at him to put his wand down, so he didn't make that mistake again.

His head was throbbing powerfully again, and he hissed slightly in pain. George had told Fred that he didn't want to talk to the Healer because he didn't want to have to depend on everyone all the time. Which, was true, but there were larger parts to hit that he conveniently forgot to mention.

A little while back he'd over heard a conversation a ghost and a student were having. Perhaps the student had asked the ghost if he liked being dead better than living, or something along those lines, because the ghost had simply replied sadly, "I'd rather feel pain and know I was _here_ than feel nothing and know I never will."

George was really very intrigued by this response. He could relate to it very well. He knew from his short experience with dreams, since he had no recollection of them previously, that he never hurt in his dreams. That's how he could tell they weren't real. But when he awoke, he could feel the sharp pain of his headache reminding him that he was _here,_ that everything including him was _real._ So if he got rid of it, where would that leave him? Would he simply disappear because he had nothing to tie him to reality? What if pain was the only reason he was still in Hogwarts, in this magical world?

And there was also the fact that the last time he had been under a Healer's care, he had supposedly lost his memory. What if that happened again? George couldn't explain it, but he had this irrational paranoia of them.

Admist his musings, George found himself nearly running into a black, wooden door. Surprised, and getting the same tingling sensation that this was where he was supposed to be, George pushed open the door. He gasped when he saw the same bird, horse type creature he had seen a while back in the portraits laying just a few feet before him. He struggled to remember what Fred had called them or what he was supposed to do, but he came up blank. The creature seemed to see him standing there, and it gave an odd cluck, standing up and glaring at him. "Um..uh.." he stammered, mind blank.

"George?"

The ginger whipped his head to find Harry sitting right beside where the thing had been laying. "Harry?"

"George, bow," Harry ordered urgently. The creature and clucked angrily again, looking like he wanted to trample George. "And look Buckbeak straight in the eye, but don't blink."

He did as he was told. George bowed to 'Buckbeak,' maintaining his gaze though his eyes burned and his heart thumped crazily. Eventually Buckbeak bowed back, and settled down next to Harry again. George breathed a sigh of relief. "What _is_ that?" Buckbeak ruffled his feathers, clearly affronted. George held up his hands. "No offense or anything."

"Buckbeak's a Hippogriff," Harry stated simply as George sat in front of him so he could pet Buckbeak too. The Hippogriff's eyes drooped lazily, obviously enjoying the attention.

"So...couldn't sleep either, huh?" George said.

Harry didn't look at him, but nodded.

"Any particular reason why?" the ginger prodded, hoping to get his mind off of his pounding headache.

"I don't want to attack anyone else," he murmured, almost inaudible to George. Almost.

"You attacked someone?" George asked surprisingly, trying to hide his apprehension. Was there some condition where you just start attacking people? Harry gave him a pointed look. "Oh. Right. You think you attacked Mr. Wea- erm, their...our...my dad? But Professor McGonagall said it was a snake."

Harry looked a little amused at his stammerings, but he sombered up almost immediately. "I attacked him...I _was_ the snake...and when I woke up-"

"Wait, wait, wait," George interupted, pausing his hand on Buckbeak's head as he looked at Harry closely. "You were asleep?" Harry nodded. "Then wasn't it just a dream or something?"

The raven haired boy growled in frustration. "It wasn't a dream! It actually _happened_, remember?"

"I know that," George said calmly. "But just because you saw it happen doesn't mean you did it. Besides, how would you get back to your dormitory?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "This is _Voldemort_ we're talking about. He can do pretty much anything," he stated bitterly.

"But aren't there like protective spells around Hogwarts?" George asked, recalling something Hermione had told him during their study sessions. "Isn't it impossible to do that?"

"Well I -" He looked at George suspiciously. "You've been talking to Hermione, haven't you?" George grinned. "Er...well, I suppose -"

"Then it couldn't have been you," George said confidently, a sudden idea stiking him. "And Fred told me about the time you saved Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets, and she was actually possessed by Voldemort, right?" Harry nodded. "And she didn't remember a lot of her year, right?" Again, Harry nodded. "Wouldn't you think that there'd be parts you didn't remember if he possessed you or anything? Wouldn't you be unable to remember what happened to Mr. Wea- er, my dad?"

Realisation dawned on Harry. "I never thought of that..." he said dazedly. He beamed brilliantly at George, "Thanks. That...that's a huge relief."

He smiled, shrugging. "Anytime."

They stroked Buckbeak for what seemed like hours before Harry was trying desperately to stifle his yawn. George smirked. "Get to bed, oh great hero. You look dead."

Harry grinned, standing up and stretching. "You coming?"

"Nah, I'm not tired." Who could sleep with a headache?

The green eyed boy studied him suspiciously. "Are you sure that's it?" he asked. "I mean, is your head okay and everything?"

"Yeah," George said wryly, feeling like he was being asked if he was mental or not. "I'm just not tired."

Harry shrugged, waving goodbye as he disappeared out of the door. George went back to petting Buckbeak, feeling its silky feathers beneath his fingers. Buckbeak seemed to really enjoy it. He nuzzled his face against George's, nipping at his fingers affectionately. He smiled, feeling a tired haze start to take over him. Almost like he completed what he was supposed to do for the day, and his mind finally decided to let him rest. And suddenly, his headache didn't matter. He simply curled up against Buckbeak's warm body, closed his eyes, and drifted.

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><p>Read and review please! :)<p> 


	11. Lost

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Yes, it's kind of a short chapter, but ah well :) I hope you guys like it anyway! Sorry for the late-ish update too :( grr. But a big thanks to **runeaglerun**, **hachoo**, **Moonlight900**, and **Send-It-On**! :D Oh how I love reviews :D

**Send-It-On:** I'm so glad you like this story! :D I hope you'll enjoy his chapter too :)

**Moonlight900:** Ahh! I can't tell you how much that made my day! :D I'm SO happy that you think that highly of my story! :D :D

**hachoo:** I always love your reviews! :D And long ones are my favourite ;) haha but thank you so much, I love when people point out what I did well and questions they may have! :D But for George not talking to Harry, you did make a good point that I thought of as to why he wouldn't tell him how he was feeling :P Gold star! But I was also thinking that George is closest with Fred, and he wouldn't tell him anything that he was afraid of unless he had to. Having being put into a new world that he doesn't remember, he won't be so keen on telling just anyone his fears. I hope that explains it! :D

**runeaglerun:** Thank you so much! You give spectacular reviews too! :D hehe they make me all happy :D And I'm soo glad you like the emotional angle! :D I like writing those parts haha it just flows out :P

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. And that's...well...that's just that.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Lost**

_I just got lost.  
>Every river that I tried to cross.<br>Every door I ever tried was locked.  
>Oh and I'm just waiting 'til the shine wears off.<em>

**~ 'Lost,' Coldplay**

Sunlight creeped in to Fred and George's room, waking up a certain ginger who lay tangled up in sheets. He groaned, burying his face in to his pillow and ignoring the stabbing pain in his shoulder that let him know he slept on it wrong. But no matter how he tried to get back to sleep, he couldn't shake the unnerving feeling that something was off. Giving in to it with a not-so-compliant grumble, he peeked his eyes open and saw that George was not in his bed.

A jolt ran through him and he jumped up to stand on his feet, but his legs caught in the bindings he made himself overnight and he tumbled to the floor in an unelegant sprawl. He fought for a good five minutes with them, wondering idly how he managed to get himself so knotted in his sheets before his legs and arms were free. Fred rose and bit his lip unsurely. George never went anywhere without Fred, whether it was familiar to him or not. If he woke up first, he would lay in his bed and wait for Fred to rise, or he'd wake him up himself. George never wandered ever since that first night as far as Fred knew. He wondered worriedly if it was his twin's new determination to be completely independent that made him leave. Fred tried to not feel hurt.

_Oh, come off it,_ a voice in his head reprimanded him sternly. _He's got to learn to not depend on you so much at some point._

_Well, why?_ Fred argued. _We're not going anywhere unless it's together. He doesn't _need_ to be independent. I'm here for him! _Fred knew it was a little selfish; George had the right to be able to handle being by himself. But...they were supposed to do everything together, right? He never really contemplated doing anything unless George was right there beside him. It made him a little scared.

_Oi, have you ever thought that maybe George is just in the loo?_ the voice scoffed.

Fred realised he didn't like his conscience.

He walked to the washroom door and knocked. "George?" There was no answer. He opened it up, but found it empty. _Great...now where? _Fred trumped down the stairs to see his mother and Sirius making breakfast. Or, rather his _Mum_ was making breakfast and Sirius was trying to not get in her way.

"Hey Fred," Sirius greeted, looking a bit harrassed. And looking like he was hoping that he got his name correct; not a lot of people could tell the difference between Fred and George. Fred snickered internally; he knew how his Mum got while she tried to cook alongside an incompetent person.

"Oh, Fred, dear, how'd you sleep? Can you set the table?" Mrs. Weasley asked. No one seemed surprised that he was up this early. Normally his Mum would have to march up to their room and yell at him to wake up.

"Erm, sure, but have you guys seen George?" Fred asked, looking around.

"No, I haven't," Mrs. Weasley remarked distractedly, doing several things at once.

Sirius looked at him strangely. "He's not in your room?" Fred shook his head. "Did you two have a fight?"

Fred resisted from smirking at that comment. Of course the only way the twins would show up without the other is if they'd been in a row. "No...at least, I don't think so..." he racked his brain for any memories of George being angry with him the night before. "No."

"Hmm..." Sirius murmured. "Maybe he's exploring the house?" After a few seconds he asked, "Do you know if Harry's up yet?" His eyes shone a little bit brighter when he said his godson's name.

The ginger shrugged. "I dunno. But I'm going to go look for George." He left before he heard their response, taking the stairs two at a time. _If I were George, where would I be?_ Fred wondered, before he mentally smacked himself. _What am I talking about? My name's Gred, ain't it?_ He grinned slightly at the thought before he snuck down the hallway, giving in to his instinct and letting it tell him where to go.

Fred came to a black, wooden door that he had never seen before. But he shrugged and opened it; his gut feeling told him it was the right place. And there before him, curled up next to a Hippogriff was George. Fred smiled broadly. _Hah! I have my own built-in George tracker. _However, the strangeness of the scene finally hit him. _Wait...George is sleeping with a Hippogriff?_ Fred tip toed over to his brother, making sure not to wake up the creature before he crouched down and shook George's shoulder slightly. "George?"

George mumbled something, nestling further into the feathers as he peeked through his eyelids. "Fred!" he declared happily, albeit sleepily, as he sat up. "Wait...what are you doing here?"

Fred looked amused. "I think I'm the one who has rights to that question."

The brother glanced at Buckbeak, an embarrassed flush forming on his cheeks. "Erm...couldn't sleep."

"So you find a Hippogriff to keep you company?" Fred raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it wasn't _intentional,_ I just found it while-"

"You were wandering," Fred finished. "Was it your head?"

George was a bit uncomfortable by all the questions. "Not _really..."_

"George," Fred sighed, sitting beside him. "What's it going to take for you to see a Healer? Is there _any_ possible way I can convince you?"

"No," George said firmly. "I do not need a Healer."

"Soon," Fred promised firmly, giving his brother a hard look. "You will see one soon or my name isn't Fred Weasley."

George rolled his eyes. "Good luck with that 'O Determined One.'

Fred ignored him and asked, "So how did you find this place, anyway? I didn't even know it existed."

"Er...by accident, really," George smirked. "Now, are we going to get breakfast, or what?"

Fred grinned and stood up. "After you," he said, bowing dramatically and gesturing towards the door.

George walked through, but not before he asked, "Hey Fred, what day's Christmas again?"

"The twenty-fifth," Fred replied, a little saddened that George didn't even know that. "And you know what would be a nice present for Christmas?"

"What?" George inquired, interested.

"If you saw a Healer."

"Fred -" George tried to say, but he got cut off.

"Look, all I'm asking is for you to just let them look you over. We'll decide what to do after that, but _please_ just do this for me." Fred looked George right in the eye. "Don't get me anything else for Christmas. Just say you'll see one."

"You really want me to do this," George whispered softly.

Fred swallowed a lump. "Yeah."

George nodded as he flung his arms around Fred's neck, not caring about how long he'd known him or anything, and hugged him tightly. "I love you, Freddie." And he did. He could never explain to his twin how much he meant to him. How much it meant for him to care about him so much.

Fred was very surprised, but he hugged him back. "Love you too, Georgiekins." He pulled back and smiled warmly at his twin, ecstatic that he'd finally agreed. "After breakfast I'll make the appointment."

The other ginger gave a small smile back, though he wasn't too happy about it. And Fred could see that, so he took George's hand in his and gave a gentle squeeze. "Thanks," he said sincerely.

"You know, I should probably be thanking you," George replied wryly. "But I won't until I appreciate it," he grinned.

Fred rolled his eyes and poked George in the ribs. "Git. C'mon, let's eat."

* * *

><p>"George, just walk through the glass."<p>

"But that would mean, you know, actually going _through_ with it."

"Well what did you intend on doing? Ditching me after you got off of the train?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Fred smacked George's shoulder. "Get through the window, you prat."

George pouted and sent Fred a glare before he walked through. Fred came up right behind him, and George felt himself get a little panicky. He was really back here. He was really, _willingly_ going to see another Healer. Was he _mad? _"Fred..." George trailed off, sounding absolutely spooked.

"C'mon," Fred said abruptly, knowing that his twin wanted to back out and taking hold of his arm. He led him forward, past all the people with oddities such as teacups for heads and right for the stairs. He didn't need the receptions desk; he already knew where he was heading. But George's struggles became a bit more frantic as they walked down the creepy hallway once more.

"Let's just go back," George pleaded, trying to wrench his arm out of Fred's grasp to no avail. Fred didn't answer as he tugged him farther. He felt bad that George was so scared, but he wasn't going to back down, because he knew George needed this.

He dragged his brother up four flights of stairs and to the fifth door on the right. There they spent a good five minutes fighting after Fred opened the door to Mr. Rikialria's office. "Get - in - there!" Fred panted, yanking hard on George's arm and the two tumbled inside and fell to the floor with a thump. He then proceeded to sit on his twin's back and beam up at the amused face of Mr. Rikialria behind his desk. "Hi."

Mr. Rikialria chuckled, "I'm assuming this is your brother. My name's Franklin Rikialria."

George simply glared at him from underneath Fred. "He's not exactly too thrilled to be here," Fred smirked.

The Healer smiled kindly at George. "It'll be quick," he promised. But George continued to stare at him distrustfully. He turned his gaze to Fred, however, and said, "But I'm afraid you'll have to get off of him first."

Fred hesitated, before he stood and ran to the door to block George in case he tried to escape. He crossed his arms for emphasis when he saw George eyeballing it contemplatively.

Finally, George sighed in defeat and seemed to slump a little as he stood. Fred hated how he looked, but he was not going to back down. He wasn't.

Mr. Rikialria stood up and walked over to George, who stiffened. He conjured up a hospital bed and gestured gently for George to take a seat. George hesitated before complying. He sat on the edge, and shot Fred another glower. Mr. Rikialria walked over and took out his wand. He passed his wands over George's head, murmuring slightly to himself as different colours of smoke emitted from the tip of his wand.

Fred watched Mr. Rikialria's face carefully, looking for any signs of worry, but his face was stratigically blank. Eventually, he stepped away and didn't say a word as he returned to his desk. George stood up instantly and the bed disappeared with a flick of Mr. Rikialria's wand, and two chairs appeared instead. "Please have a seat," Mr. Rikialria said wearily, and the first flicker of panic rose inside of Fred.

He rushed to his seat, feeling George sit down as well. There was a pregnant pause before Mr. Rikialria said, directing his words towards George, "I'm not going to lie, Mr. Weasley. It won't be easy to fix. The reason you've been getting these headaches is because a part of your brain swelled after your skull was cracked, but the person who tended to you put a spell on it to stop it from swelling even more so you wouldn't die." Fred choked at this, sending a worried glance at his twin. "And it also looks like it got jostled quite badly. Have you been playing any Quidditch while these headaches were bothering you? Or, perhaps, hit it again?"

Fred and George paled considerably. "Y-Yes," George replied. "Both."

Mr. Rikialria continued on sympathetically, "Unfortunately, because it's brain damage, and it is already so swelled, it will not be a simple fix, which is why the Healer you saw at your school either did not see it, or could not fix it on his or her own. The brain is delicate, and when tampered with, it can have drastic consequences."

"We will have to meet definitely more than once," Mr. Rikialria stated, linking his fingers together. "It will take a while, but I suspect it's the reason as well why your memory has not started to come back yet." At their confused looks, he explained, "A normal hit to the back of the skull does not cause permanent amnesia, or loss of memory. Now, because your injury was so severe, it would take a while to come back, but little bits of your past should have started to come back to you, especially being around family during the holidays." He leaned across his desk, looking at George intently. "Do you recognise your family, or remember anything about them?"

George and shook his head and remarked quietly and guiltily, "No. They're like strangers to me." Fred winced at his words.

"Do you remember anything about Fred before your accident?" Mr. Rikialria asked gently. Being twins, he knew if he remembered anyone, it'd be Fred.

The ginger turned to look at Fred's concerned face, and he felt another surge of guilt bubbling up inside of him. He looked away as he whispered, "No." Fred felt a twinge of pain in his heart.

"I need your parents' approval, but I would like to start as soon as possible," the Healer replied kindly.

Fred nodded numbly. "But it will work, right? It...it won't be dangerous or anything?"

Mr. Rikialria sighed. "Nearly seventy percent of the time it does, but sometimes the brain reacts strangely to being brought down from its constant swelling. But it's all we can do. If left untreated, it is fatal."

Fred felt all colour leave his face and managed to stammer out a, "Thank you." George nodded, unable to speak.

"Have a good day," he replied.

Fred resisted the urge to snort at this. _'Your twin has a severe brain complication and he might die. Have a good day.' _Yeah, not exactly the best thing to say after giving news like that out.

George all but flew out of the door when he realised he could go. _Brain swelling...headaches...long time...fatal? Am I going to die? Have I left it too late? I am such an idiot! _

Fred saw George run down the hallway, and in his terror he took after him. "George!" He couldn't stop one word from swimming around his mind, though. _Fatal...fatal...fatal...fatal._ Could he possibly lose George forever? He sprinted faster to find George standing still on the third floor, staring down the staircase before him. His eyes were out of focus and he seemed deep in thought. Fred tentatively placed a hand on George's shoulder. "George?"

A strangled sound came from George's throat, but he didn't move. Fred wrapped his arms around his twin into a fierce hug, fighting back tears as he felt his brother's body shake slightly. He was sure he was shaking too, but he couldn't really tell. "It'll be okay, Georgie. I promise." They slid to the floor against the wall, and Fred tucked George's head under his chin. "You will be okay. I won't let anything happen to you." He kissed the crown of his head. Fred was terrified.

George closed his eyes as he felt Fred try to console him, but he couldn't fight the feeling that he was going to be that thirty percent that reacted badly to the treatment. Yes, it was pessimistic, but really, considering his luck, did he have any reason _not_ to think like this? And where would that leave them? Either way, could he die? Was the last couple of months just a waste? What was the point of learning, if he was going to die soon anyway? What was the point in remembering his family, in building relationships with them, if he was just going to die?

"I guess I should've expected this," George said defeatedly.

Fred tensed at his tone. He wasn't...giving up? "What do you mean?" Fred asked. But George didn't say anymore; Fred knew what he meant.

He felt the tears sting his eyes even more, blurring his vision. "No," he murmured, holding George, if possible, even closer. "No, it's not going to happen. It can't. It _won't." _

George regretted what he said; he shouldn't be talking like that. He should be trying to make Fred feel better. "Yeah...you're right," he tried to say brightly. "I mean...there's a seventy percent chance I'll be fine, right? And the Healer...he's a professional, so he'll make sure nothing goes wrong. So...so I'll be fine," he concluded lamely.

Fred nodded. "Let's go...it seems we're going to have to tell Mum, Dad, and the rest of the family about...about you."

They stood up resoundly and walked quietly back down to the reception office, thinking about what they were going to have to do.

It wasn't going to be easy.

* * *

><p>You see that bright blue button that says review? It wants you to click it :)<p> 


	12. That Green Gentleman

**Author's Note: **Well that chapter got a great response! :D And some of you sounded extremely freaked out, so I just want to say that I do not _plan_ on breaking any hearts ;) and that's all I'm going to reveal! :D MUHAHAHAHA :D

And this is my longest chapter yet! :D I think that deserves some mentioning too! Haha hopefully it'll make up for my late-ish (late for me, anyway :D) updates! Oh, and p.s. ...

I PAST MY 50 REVIEW MARK! :D hahahaha I just felt like sharing :D I hope you guys like it! And thank you to **EricaX**,** hachoo**,** Moonlight900**,** runeaglerun**, **Laura T**, and **Send-It-On** for reviewing! :D

**Disclaimer: **Still do not own Harry Potter. Sigh.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**That Green Gentleman**

_Things have changed for me, and that's okay.  
>I feel the same, I'm on my way, and I say.<br>Things have changed for me, and that's okay.  
>I want to go where everyone goes,<br>I want to know what everyone knows,  
>I want to go where everyone feels the same.<br>_**~ 'That Green Gentleman,' Panic! At The Disco**

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!"

Fred and George winced as they entered the door, seeing a very irate Mrs. Weasley glaring at the pair of them. Fred groaned internally; he'd hoped no one would have noticed their absence. "Listen," Fred tried to say. "We have -"

But Mrs. Weasley was practically glowing with anger. "You left without a note! You couldn't have bothered with telling anyone where you were, could you? What with You-Know-Who running amok, you nearly scared us out of our wits! I don't know where you two get it from, Percy certainly -" But she stopped herself at his name, eyes a bit bright.

"Who's Percy?" George asked Fred in a whisper.

Fred grimaced. He forgot he didn't tell him about his treacherous older brother. "Mum, we were gone for a good reason -"

"Oh _were_ you?" she growled again, getting back into her stride. "A good enough reason not to write a note? I bet you were off doing something for your _joke_ shop, right? If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, and joke shop is _not_ a good career for wizards like yourselves who -"

George shot Fred a glance. He didn't know their mother didn't approve of their joke shop.

" - entirely unrespectable business. What if it doesn't work? What if -"

But the sound of her yelling seemed to have woken up some dastardly beast. _"MUDBLOODS! FILTH IN MY OWN HOUSE! HOW DARE THEY STAND THERE LIKE THEY AREN'T TRAITORS TO THE WHOLE -"_

"What the hell is going on?" George said loudly, looking spooked.

"Don't use that tone with me!" Mrs. Weasley snapped, not bothered by the high screeching taking place behind her.

"Oh shut up you wretched old lady!" came an angry bellow that Fred recognized as Sirius'.

_"DEMONS! DISGUSTING EXCUSE FOR LIVING BEINGS -"_

"We were told _specifically_ by Dumbledore not to leave this house unless accompanied by an Auror or a Ministry official -"

There were sounds of people running down the stairs or coming from different rooms of the house, staring in shock at all the commotion. Although, they _weren't_ surprised at who seemed to be responsible for it.

_"MUDBLOODS! DISGUSTING MUDBLOODS, THE WHOLE LOT OF THEM! AND EVEN MY BLOOD TRAITOR OF A SON IS -"_

"Oh shut your bloody mouth you -!"

"- could have died! What if a Muggle saw you two doing whatever you were doing -"

"SHUT UP!" Fred roared.

Everyone, including Mrs. Weasley, fell into a stunned silence as Sirius closed the curtain to his mother's portrait. "Can you all just shut up for _one second!" _He yelled, angry, frustrated, and scared. George put a hand on Fred's arm, and the ginger calmed down a bit instantly. "Look," he said. "We know we should've left a note, alright? But to be honest, it wasn't exactly something we wanted to tell people until we absolutely had to. And we do now."

Everyone waited with baited breath. Even Bill and Charlie, who had just gotten here the day before, was wide eyed with apprehension. Mrs. Weasley still looked like she could breath fire, but at least she was silent. Only Ron, Hermione, and Harry realised what they were talking about, and stiffened.

Fred opened his mouth to continue, but George stopped him. "I think...I think I should probably do this," he said quietly. Everyone turned to stare at George. As far as they knew, he had never spoken so softly before. "Erm...well, I suppose I should just make this short and simple, right?" he said nervously. Fred placed a hand on his brother's shoulder for support, giving it a light squeeze. "I...er, I lost my memory a few months ago. To be honest, I don't know most of the people in this room." Save for a few people, they all looked at him as if waiting for the punch line. "I could probably guess at your names because Fred and Ron have been teaching me," Ron's ears turned a bit red at the attention, "but I don't know any of you very well. And the only reason we decided to tell you is because Fred finally got me to go see a Healer about it and..." he trailed off, not knowing how to put it.

"And he needs to go back a couple of times," Fred continued for him. "Because it could be fatal." His voice went a little high pitched at the last word, but he stared determindly at the audience.

The silence was deafening. And suddenly, Mrs. Weasley's eyes filled with tears. "Oh George!" she cried, flinging her arms around a startled ginger. "Why...how?"

"Er...Bludger accident," George mumbled.

Mrs. Weasley gasped. "Not...not the one that happened...the one to the...oh _George!"_

"You...really don't remember anything?" Bill got out, looking pale but forcibly calm.

"No, he...didn't even remember me," Fred said quietly, a pained expression appearing on his face. They all gave him sympathetic looks. Ginny walked over and hugged him.

"Did any of you know?" Sirius asked eventually. "Other than Fred?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, looking respectfully upset. "Me, Ron, and Hermione did."

"And Lee," Hermione piped up. "He knows too."

"Yeah, but other than that, no one else knows, right?" Ron stated. Fred nodded.

"Why didn't you tell anyone!" Bill demanded, a furious glint in his eyes. It was the first time he showed he was upset. Normally, it'd be Mrs. Weasley who'd berate them for it, but she seemed too overcome with emotions to do it herself.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione had the decency to look ashamed of themselves. Fred, however, possessed no such decency. "We didn't think it'd be permanent!" Fred countered angrily.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said, dabbing at her eyes when she pulled back. "We can...we can pull through this."

"But what about it being fatal?" Charlie demanded, eyes flickering between George and Fred. "What about that!"

The tension could be cut with a knife. "W-Well, it only _could_ be," George stuttered, feeling suddenly panicked.

Fred's hand tightened on George's shoulder, hearing his tone. "It's a thirty percent chance, but it's all we've got," Fred tried to explain calmly. "It's either that, or he _will_ die."

No one spoke for a while as Mrs. Weasley hugged George tightly again, crying into his shoulder. "W-We'll g-go to see the Healer t-tomorrow," she sobbed.

George was entirely uncomfortable as he patted her back awkwardly. He shot a helpless glance towards Fred.

"Mum," Fred said, trying to pry her off of his twin. "You don't need to strangle him-"

But Mrs. Weasley suddenly launched herself on to Fred, crying even harder. "Oh F-Fred!" she bawled.

George slinked away and ran upstairs, too freaked out to stay. With people staring at him like that and a woman he barely knew weeping over him? It was too much for him to handle. He didn't think they'd react that way. Though, to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure how he expected them to react; he couldn't exactly remember any sort of reactions to, well, anything he did. Perhaps it was more the shock than anything that upset him, but either way, he knew he had to get out of there.

Fred saw George sprint upstairs, and he knew he had to go after him. So with Bill's help, they managed to drag their Mum off of the twin so he could take off after George. Fred got the idea that their Mum had now latched herself to Bill, but he didn't dwell on it. He ran up to their bedroom and threw open the door.

It took a few seconds for Fred to see it, but there was a large lump under the covers of his brother's bed, and a familiar tuft of red hair sticking out at the end. "George, remind me to play 'Hide and Seek' with you later, because at the rate your going, I'll find you every time."

George made a sound, somewhere between a snort and a confused 'hmm?' before he seemed to scrunch even further into himself. He didn't know what 'Hide and Seek' was, but he sort of figured out the gist of it by the name. Fred walked over and sat on the edge of George's bed. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he murmured, voice muffled by the sheets. "S'just weird is all."

He could understand that. "Does your head hurt?" Fred asked gently.

"Er, just to make this clear for future reference? It _always_ hurts," George stated.

Fred winced. "Well, crap." George chortled slightly without humour, but said nothing. "We'll get through this, George," he said quietly. "And once this is all fixed, we'll be back to the way we used to be."

George didn't look at him as he sat up and remarked, "I know I'm different now, there's no denying that. But would you...if I couldn't get my memory back...would I still be as good as the old George was? Would you still always like the old George better?"

His brother looked at him like he'd never seen him properly before in his entire life. "Forge," he croaked finally, staring his twin down. "You need to stop thinking that there are two versions of you and I always seem to like the old one better." He put an arm around George's shoulders as he continued to look at him, while George gazed adamantly towards the floor. "There is only one of you, Georgie. There is no old, new, future, or any other kind of you. Yes, you are a little different than you were before the accident, but you're not a completely different person, George. You're still the same twin who rescued me from the Black Lake after I fell in and discovered that the giant squid liked to be tickled. You're still the same twin who finishes or starts my sentences and who occassionally trades places with me in classes so I won't fail and get a Howler from Mum. You're still the twin who was with me since birth and who has always been there for me." Fred gave him a one armed squeeze, feeling oddly sentimental. "And I'm sorry that I've made you feel that way. It was wrong, especially when I didn't think anything of it. You've never changed from that, and you never will. Even if you can't remember it," he added with a faint smirk.

George's eyes were bright and he didn't trust himself to speak. How was it that Fred could say these things so much more openly (now, of course), while George had as much time to get used to their new fluffier and dependent relationship and he still couldn't do much more than listen? "Fred -"

But Fred interupted him. "If we're any sort of twins, you don't need to say it," he smiled.

The ginger felt a wave of affection towards Fred and he put his arms around his waist and hugged him. "Thank you," he said. "For everything."

Fred rolled his eyes and ruffled his hair. "I told you that you didn't need to say it, you git."

George shoved him. "You can't pull a sappy speech like that on me and not expect me to say _something,"_ he grinned. "And I thought saying you're a wuss would ruin this brotherly moment."

"Oi!" Fred cried as George launched himself up as soon as the words left his mouth and ran from the room, cackling maniacally. "Get back here, you prat!"

"Tosser!" George called tauntingly over his shoulder as he sped downstairs and past startled family members.

_"George!"_ Mrs. Weasley cried in surprise.

"Wan-"

"Don't you even dare to finish that sentence, Fred Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley growled as Fred nearly knocked her over. He ran into the kitchen after his brother and almost got him, but George hopped over the counter and reentered the living room. "Boys!" their Mum shrieked angrily.

George dove behind their mother, and even Fred didn't dare enter that territory to get him. They had huge grins on their faces the entire time, and George stuck his tongue out from behind Mrs. Weasley at him.

_"Ohh,_ you're going to need more than one Healer tomorrow once I get through with you!" Fred threatened playfully, attempting to get George to step out of the safe zone that was their terrifying mother.

"Fred!" Mrs. Weasley reprimanded furiously, eyes narrowing.

Bill cuffed him on the head. "Don't joke," he said warningly.

George's smile faltered, something only Ginny noticed. "Why not?" she countered, her eyes still on George's face.

"Er, Ginny?" Charlie said, confused. "I think it's pretty obvious."

"Yeah, well you know what's obvious to _me?" _Ginny retorted, looking downright fiery. "Fred's the only one who makes George smile anymore. I've seen him when he's had, on odd occassions, walked the hallways alone, and he looks downright miserable! He looks at people around him like he doesn't belong, but when Fred's around he acts like the George we all know! Which thank Merlin is a lot, because the George _I've_ seen is dead depressing! And in case you haven't noticed, _George_ didn't seem bothered by what Fred said."

Everyone stared at Ginny in shock. "Ginny...did you know...?" Fred asked, too stunned to finish his sentence.

"That George lost his memory? Not exactly," Ginny replied simply, hands on her hips. "I mean, it's not exactly like I hang around you guys, but I knew something was wrong."

"Well, you're the first one who did," Fred said in awe, running a hand through his hair. Though he felt touched and a little giddy about what Ginny just revealed. But he wouldn't ever admit it. He wasn't _that_ much of a sap.

"Somehow you see more than anyone else," George whispered, equally amazed.

"George, remind me to never discuss anything around Ginny, because then we'll never be able to pull another prank again," Fred said seriously.

George rolled his eyes. "Right, tell the guy with brain damage to remember something." But he instantly regretted his words, since every member in the room save for Fred and Ginny seemed to stiffen. "Joking," he added weakly, looking nervous.

"Oh lighten up, all of you," Ginny snapped, glaring fiercely. At everyone's disgruntled looks, she explained herself. "Look, everyone is scared and everyone is on edge, but you're not helping if you're all walking on eggshells around him! I mean, this isn't how we all act around him, is it? How is he supposed to remember his family life if we're not acting the way we used to?"

Mouth agape, George stepped out from behind their Mum and engulfed Ginny in a large hug. "I think you're my favourite sister ever," he stated.

She smirked, hugging him back. "I'm your _only_ sister, George."

"Which makes you my favourite," he grinned, ruffling her hair.

They all stared at the interaction with a detached fascination. Especially Fred, who had never seen George bond with someone he just met so quickly.

"So what do we do now?" Charlie spoke quietly, breaking the silence that had started to leak in. "I mean, do we even know what the Healer's going to do?"

George was a bit confused. "Don't they just wave their wands and heal people?"

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "No. With minor injuries, like a broken arm, sure, they can fix it no problem. But if it were that easy, we wouldn't need Healers."

"There are potions involved, sometimes people even resort to Muggle treatments," Bill continued. "Sometimes Healer's just improvise. And sometimes they're quite painful."

"That's a whole lot of 'sometimes,'" George remarked half-heartedly.

"But he didn't say any of that when we met him today," Fred said abruptly, staring at Bill intently.

"Well, he wouldn't," Bill replied. "He can't tell you anything until he meets with Mum."

"So let's just cross that bridge when he get to it," George offered hopefully, growing tired of the conversation being so focused on him.

"Which _will_ be tomorrow," Mrs. Weasley promised.

"Um, w-will...will everyone be there?" George asked nervously. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate their concern; he really did. But, he just didn't know them very well, and being around new people, like always, made him anxious.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Like hell we'd just sit at home and wait to find out if...if you...you..." he stopped right there, throat tight. Everyone else, save for Sirius who wasn't allowed to leave the house, nodded enthusiastically, though they had grim expressions on their faces.

"Erm, thanks," George murmured awkwardly, shifting his weight between his feet. A telltale sign that George was severely uncomfortable.

"Okay, well, we'll just be...upstairs," Fred rushed out, grabbing George's wrist and sprinting upstairs. They burst into their room and Fred locked the door, if only to insure George's peace of mind. But his twin didn't notice.

George simply wandered without really realising he was still moving towards the window, like a bug was drawn to light, and stood in front of it, a million thoughts running through his mind. The sky was littered with thousands of little white specks, swirling and dancing around each other. It was still light outside, but he knew it wouldn't be for long.

It was one of the only random thoughts that managed to penetrate his otherwise dominant tracks in his mind. He didn't know what to expect tomorrow when he would see Mr. Rikialria, but he, if possible, was more anxious than before. _Sometimes it's painful...everyone's going to be there...oh God, they're all going to see...if it's painful...how's Fred going to react? _

Fred came up behind him cautiously and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Georgie? Are you okay?"

George didn't say anything, but shook his head. No. He wasn't okay. He was terrified, but mostly worried about his family. George didn't want them to fret over him like they were bound to do. Especially Fred.

"Fred, I don't think you should come," George choked out, still staring out of the window. He couldn't let Fred worry about him. Why did he have to open his big mouth and tell him his head hurt? _Why?_

Fred felt like George punched him in the stomach. "W-What do you mean? You don't want me to come?"

"No," George said with a firmness he didn't feel, turning around to look at him. "I don't want you to be there incase...incase -"

"Don't say that," Fred snapped harshly, glowering at his brother as he realised what he was trying to tell him. "I don't give a damn what you say, I am not just going to stay home and wait to see if you come back or not!"

George paled, but said in what he hoped was a steady voice, "Are you sure? I don't want you to worry or anything -"

Fred snorted. "I'd worry _more_ being at home, George, you know that."

The twin sighed and gave a weak smile. "Had to give you the option, I guess. I just wish I wasn't...I wish you didn't..."

"Georgiekins, don't even say it," Fred admonished gently, pulling him away from the window. "You need to stop feeling guilty about this. None of it is your fault."

George sat on his bed while Fred sat a few feet away on his own. "Alright," he gave in.

"Say it," Fred ordered. At George's _you're-kidding-right?_ look, Fred added, "I'm not above tickling the micky out of you. And this time I won't stop."

Looking absolutely horror-struck, George blurted out, "Okay! It's...it's not my fault."

Fred stood, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I don't quite believe you yet."

George scampered into the farthest corner of his bed, away from the slowly approaching Fred. "It's not my fault," he nearly begged, eyes glued to his twin's fingers.

But Fred was still coming closer. "Are you sure? Because I'm not convinced..."

"Fred!" George cried, half laughing. "Don't come any closer, you prat!"

But Fred launched himself on top of him for the second time, mercilessly assaulting his ribcage. George squealed, choking on his laughter and protests. They started shouting at each other playfully, grins spread across their faces. Neither noticed a red haired girl standing in the doorway, smiling softly.

She didn't know what it was, but seeing the two of them like this always made her smile. Like she were witnessing something special. Sure, she'd been bloody alarmed at the screaming, but once she saw what it was, she quickly assured her family it was nothing before she crept back upstairs. It wasn't often that the two did stuff like this, since they rarely needed cheering up. But Ginny knew there was something unique about their relationship, if being able to read eachother's minds was any indication.

However, despite the rarity, Ginny knew that if either of them caught her watching them, she'd be the victim of the next attack, so with the smile still in place, she closed the door slightly and saunteered back down the stairs.

* * *

><p>The next morning was a stressful affair. After breakfast they'd all be heading down to St. Mungo's to both visit their father, who should be getting out today, and having George see a Healer. No one said much, but everyone's gaze kept flitting back to George as if they were afraid he would burst into flames. And George was pretty annoyed by it.<p>

His face was stony as he poked and prodded at the breakfast displayed before him, not hungry at all. George actually longed for the times when no one, not even Fred, knew how bad his headaches were, because he'd rather have those at the moment than everyone staring at him like he was some fragile doll. _I've been dealing with this by myself for nearly five months,_ he growled to himself. It was only a few days until Christmas, so in about a week or so, it'd be five months. _They act like I can't handle it! _

Fred's eyes were the ones that darted towards his twin the most, nearly a blur as every few seconds they seemed to feel the need to latch on to George's face. He didn't like his hard expression, but he figured there was nothing he could do about it. And Merlin knew he was allowed to be upset, though he knew without George having to tell him that it was due to the attention. "C'mon Georgie, eat something," he told him softly, pushing George's barely touched plate closer to him.

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled, pushing it away. The two seemed to have a ferocious battle of how close the plate was to George, one shoving it as far away as possible and the other pushing it right back under his nose. Eventually, George threw his arms up in the air and gave up, crossing them over his chest and glaring at the plate that dangerously loomed over the side of the table.

Each seemed to have won their own battle, though, as Fred gave up on trying to get George to eat and ate his own breakfast. And once everyone was done, they all stood up awkwardly, not sure on how to proceed.

They were told by Tonks that the Aurors would be with them on the train, but they would wait in the reception area for them.

It seemed that everyone except for Sirius would be accompanying Fred and George, but he did give George a one-armed squeeze for luck before they left. The ride was boring and far too long and stressful for anyone's liking. Muggles kept giving them odd looks, obviously sensing that something was wrong and avoided them like the plague. Others gave them sympathetic looks, while some simply ignored their existence altogether. Not that anyone save for George really cared; they had more pressing issues to attend to.

They walked through the glass and up the stairs, Fred leading the way. But he made sure by clutching at George's wrist that he was close behind him.

"Come in," came Mr. Rikialria's deep voice when he heard them knock at his door. He had already conjured up several chairs, and found that he needed a few more in order to fit the startling crowd that roamed into his office. "My, aren't we popular," he chuckled, but George didn't humour him by laughing with him. He merely glowered at his hands, the hairs at the back of his neck prickling at all the eyes cast on him. George felt Fred give his hand a gentle pressure for reassurance, which he returned half-heartedly.

Mr. Rikialria held out one hand for Mrs. Weasley and said pleasantly, "Hello, I'm Franklin Rikialria."

"Molly Weasley," she replied softly, sitting down on the left side of George after shaking his hand; Fred was occupying George's right.

The Healer folded his hands together like he had in his meeting with the twins. "I'm assuming you know about George's current situation."

Everyone nodded. George continued to stare at his hands.

"So, would I also be correct in assuming that whatever I must do to help your son is under your approval?"

"As long as you tell me first," she said compliantly.

Mr. Rikialria smiled. "Of course." But then his face went serious. "We must start today, but would everyone be so kind as to allow me to speak with Molly and George privately?"

Fred stared at him dumbfoundly. He forgot to say he had to speak with Molly, George, and _Fred_ privately. The twins shared a glance. "Can Fred stay?" George asked hesitantly.

The Healer's gaze turned sympathetic. "I'm afraid not." And at Fred's look, he simply said, "I have my reasons."

George sighed sadly, sharing a glance with Fred which clearly told him he'd be fine. So it was this look and this look only that allowed him to be dragged bodily from the room without much protest. Much.

For the next quartre of an hour, Fred paced in front of the door while everyone else leaned up against the wall and watched him. He didn't like the fact that they were talking without him. Surely whatever needed to be said could be said in front of him? It wasn't like George wasn't going to tell him anyway! It made Fred angry, because whatever they were saying to them must not be good, otherwise they'd all still be there.

"Fred, just calm down," Charlie said soothingly, noticing the signs of Fred's building anger. "Nothing's going to happen, they're just talking."

The twin shot him a withering glare, but said nothing as he continued his pacing. He wasn't that thick, he _knew_ they were just talking...it was what they were talking _about_ that worried him.

And suddenly, the door opened. But instead of them all being called back into the office, the three of them crowded into the hallway. George's face was white, and their Mum looked like she had been crying again. Fred's heart dropped.

He barely registered the other Healers coming into view as Mr. Rikialria spoke. "We'll be starting right away. It'll take a few hours, so you can all come back later to see him."

"L-Later?" Fred choked. "Can't I stay?"

"I'm afraid not," Mr. Rikialria responded gently as the Healers tried to get George to walk away with them.

But Fred wasn't ready to be separated from George, and vice versa. Not with him looking so frightened and alone. And _especially _not when he got the feeling that neither the Healers nor George knew what the outcome would be. He could feel the panic rising inside of him at this realisation. "No...George..." He tried to go to him, but he felt hands grab a hold of him.

George was slowly being tugged away, but not exactly willingly. "Fred," he whimpered. They told him they didn't know what would happen...he hadn't been able to tell Fred...but somehow, he thought Fred understood.

"GEORGE!" Fred cried, using all his strength to try and wrench himself from whoever was holding him back. "No! George!" He didn't know what he would do if he actually got a hold of him, but all he knew was that he _had_ to reach him. He had to. "Let me go!" he roared, sensing another pair of hands wrestling with him. He heard people shouting at him to stop, that this was for the best, but Fred didn't care. "GEORGE!"

George stared back with wide, terrified eyes as he struggled, and it became clear to everyone there that he was not ready to do this. But no one did anything about it. George did not want to be alone, especially when he might not make it. He wanted Fred with him, if only to tell him that everything would be alright. But because his headaches made him weak, the Healers managed to drag him away with little complications. George could see the same raw desperation in his twin's eyes as he knew were in his, so he continued to try and call out to him, but the words couldn't make it past his throat.

Fred, not having this problem, continued to bellow George's name, instantly assuming that whatever they would do would hurt him. Or kill him. He contemplated biting into the hands that held him, since he couldn't get to his wand, but his eyes flitted upwards just to lock eyes with his twin for a milisecond before he was out of his sight. But that didn't stop him from struggling.

"Fred! Stop!" Bill ordered as he and Charlie clutched on to him. Fred was surprisingly strong when he was motivated enough. They received many curses and elbows to the stomach that nearly made them double over in pain, but they didn't let go.

"You said yourself that it was either this or George would be dead for sure!" Charlie cried, his voice catching a bit in pain as Fred stomped on his foot.

"I don't care what I said!" Fred roared. "They'll hurt him! They might kill him! GEORGE!"

"You can't help him!" Bill yelled. And surprisingly, this made Fred suddenly go limp, those words hitting home for him. He couldn't help him. He never could. Surprised by the sudden lack of resistence, Bill and Charlie nearly fell. "You can't help him," Bill repeated in a gentler tone, though he was panting. "The Healers know what they're doing."

Fred did not reply, but allowed Bill and Charlie to hold him up as he stared purposefully down the hallway where George had vanished. He couldn't wait hours to see if he would be okay. "Just let me go, I just want to see -"

"No," Charlie replied firmly. "You will wait like all of the rest of us."

"Yeah, do you think you're the only one who wants to see him?" Ron argued, face white.

"I'm his twin!" Fred bellowed, glaring at everyone as he got his footing. "None of you understand!"

"Fred, we do," Hermione said shakily. "We're worried too."

"You don't understand!" Fred screamed, face red with fury. Didn't any of them get it? They couldn't possibly be as worried as he was; George was his _twin! _They didn't have the same kind of connection, no matter what they said. And they weren't about to be parted. George _wanted_ Fred there with him, and he knew it!

"Let's just go see Mr. Weasley," Harry offered quickly, hoping to diffuse the tension. Fred looked like he was about to breathe fire. "He's probably expecting us soon, right?"

Everyone but Fred nodded immediately. "I'm waiting for George right here," Fred hissed.

"Don't be stupid," Ron snapped, somehow gaining the courage to say this to his brother. But it instantly vanished when Fred turned his scorching gaze on him. He shrinked away, looking like he deeply regretted opening his mouth.

"Fred, it'll serve as a distraction," Ginny piped up. "You'll make yourself go crazy if you just sit here with nothing to take your mind off of it."

_Damn it,_ Fred growled to himself, knowing she was right. He simply huffed, still glowering at anything that moved, but he allowed himself to be carted back down the stairs to their Dad's hospital bed. Unfortunately, he knew nothing about George's predicament.

"Hello!" Mr. Weasley called cheerfully. "The Healers tell me I'm all ready to go as soon as they get their discharge papers and I have someone to accompany me!"

"That's fantastic news, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley smiled warrmly.

He beamed as his eyes travelled over his children and friends until it fell on the empty spot beside Fred. "Where's George?" he asked, frowning a bit.

Ron shuffled his feet a bit. "Yeah, about that..."

* * *

><p>Everyone was told to wait outside while the Healers tried to calm Mr. Weasley down. It was rather surprising, since he was normally more mellow than their mother, but when he got angry, it was scary. Fred got his flare of temper from him, but his likeliness to act on it from his mother. So really, he was just one, big, volatile ball of fury. With legs.<p>

"Yeah, this is _really_ taking my mind off of things," Fred snapped at Ginny. She sent him a harsh look, but refrained from comment.

It took a while, but eventually they were allowed back into his room. However, he didn't look like he faired any better than before. His face was red and he looked like he very much wanted to throw back his covers and find George himself, but there were about four Healers and a reproachful Mrs. Weasley in the room to make sure that didn't happen. His eyes locked on to Fred's and he saw a rush of pain cross his father's features. _Of course,_ Fred thought unhappily to himself. _I look like George. _

"Can I get discharged so I can see my son?" Mr. Weasley said testily.

"Are you able to -" one of the Healers started to say.

"Yes!" Mr. Weasley nearly yelled exasperately. "I've been here for too long."

"Arthur, we cannot see him yet," Mrs. Weasley told him firmly. "He's still..." she stopped there, biting her lip.

"He's still what?" Fred demanded. "You know what they're doing to him, don't you? That's why you were so upset when you came out! You know!" He turned on his heels and burst out of the room, flying up the stairs despite the startled shouts of protests from his family.

Fred raced towards Mr. Rikialria's office and plants himself right in front of the door, staring down the hallway with worry nearly overwhelming him. It wasn't long until the rest of his family joined him, but it seemed that Mr. Weasley hadn't been allowed to come. Fred wondered what happened to make him unable to join them, but he figured that if it was anything serious, everyone wouldn't be with him right now.

It took a long time. Long, agonizingly slow hours before the Healers appeared from the door down the hallway unannounced, levitating a hospital bed through the doors. Fred's heart clenched at the sight as he recognized a familiar tuft of orange hair lying on the pillow. "GEORGE!" he cried, rushing forward and startling the rest of his family into awareness. They all raced after him as Fred skid to a stop to the side of the bed as it stopped for the visitors. "Oh God," he breathed, staring at his twin's sickly face with his watery eyes. The Healers didn't look happy about the halt.

George's eyes fluttered open a bit, and gave a small, pained and weary smile. "Hi Fred," he croaked, his voice hoarse and rough.

Fred gripped George's hand tightly. "I'm here, Georgiekins," he whispered, seeing his eyes close. "Help him," he begged the Healers. He could nearly feel the pain himself.

They nodded grimly, hurrying forward into an empty room on the left. The rest of the family rushed in, Mrs. Weasley's sobs following them.

Fred was by his brother's side in a heartbeat, clutching on to his hand and brushing his hair back in a half-hearted attempt to soothe him. Mrs. Weasley sat on the other side where George's head lay and continued to cry. The Healers, meanwhile, seemed to be quickly fixing together a potion. Everyone crowded around his bed, and for once, George couldn't care less about the attention. He couldn't ever remember being in so much pain, even when he got his head smashed in with the Bludger. What they had him do was...excruciating.

They hadn't been lying when they said he might not make it. He could feel his life slowly ebbing away as he thought. Which, by the way, was quite a feat. George could barely register gentle hands smoothing his hair before he felt someone prying his mouth open. He cried out in pain.

Fred felt so helpless as he watched the agony flit across his face as he yelped. _Oh Georgie,_ he whimpered to himself. _What did they do to you?_ No one registered that Mr. Rikialria was missing.

The Healers forced the liquid down his throat as George spluttered and gasped. Everyone seemed to fight over who would be closest to George other than Fred and Mrs. Weasley. It was mutally agreed that no one would second guess Fred and their mother's position, but now it seemed that everyone else was fair game. However, after much struggling, it seemed that Bill had won out on Fred's side, and Ron won on their mother's side. Ginny, Hermione, Harry, and Charlie were subjected to the feet.

George's heartbeat was faint, but Fred clutched on even tighter. No one's eyes were dry. Bill was doubled over on the bed, face in his arms, while Charlie had his arms around Ginny and Ron. Harry and Hermione simply stood wordlessly by each other's side.

Fred had never been so scared. It nearly stopped his heart. At least when George had been in the hospital wing they knew very soon afterwards that he would live. Now, it was anyone's guess. Images of everything he and George had gone through, the past few months of reteaching George everything...what if they all went away?

He bowed his head, listening intently to the shallow breaths of his beloved twin. They seemed to get shallower with every breath. "Fred," George managed to gasp. _I'm dying. _"I'm...sorry..."

"No," Fred shook his head violently, barely able to see due to the tears. "No, no, George, you can't! I'm not saying goodbye, damn it! I'm not," he sobbed.

George's eyes flickered, starting to close.

"Please," Fred begged, placing his hands on either side of George's face and staring directly into his eyes. "Please, don't leave me."

Somehow, his voice seemed to give George enough strength to wrench his eyes open again and reach up to touch Fred's cheek. Words seemed beyond his ability, but he managed a crooked, microscopic smile that told Fred he'd try his best.

Fred prayed to God he would.

* * *

><p>Reviews are fantastic!:D They make my day completely, and make me want to update sooner :D hehe<p> 


	13. Hero

**Author's Note: **That was the best response I've ever gotten! :D haha thank you so much to **Moonlight900**,****hachoo****,** **Bookwormie****,** **chocolateMnMs****,** **Cheetos234****,** **MadCatta****,** **Tezan****,** **SolelyReader****,** **sashafrazzle****,** **EricaX, ****Mauraderfanwantspadfoot****,** **Pinkranger888****, and** **weasleytwins4eva**** for reviewing! :D I hope you all enjoy this chapter and that it clears up a few questions you've all had :)

**Disclaimer: **Nope, I do not own Harry Potter :)

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Hero**

_And they say that a hero can save us,  
>Im not gonna stand here and wait.<br>I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles,  
>Watch as we all fly away.<br>_**~ 'Hero,' Nickelback**

Fred was having a horrible flashback. He'd hoped that he never would have to replay the time when he sat by George's bedside, waiting for him to gain consciousness. But here he was yet again, only this time he wasn't alone.

No one left his side the entire day. They simply conjured up extra chairs for everyone so they could wait by his side. At every twitch, every change in his breathing, people jumped like he had started yelling. The Healers told them that the next few hours were crucial. Either he would wake up by the end of the day, or he never would. And Fred was a nervous wreck.

His nails had been bitten down to the point where they had started bleeding, and his lip had basically been stripped of its skin. It had already been a few hours, but it felt like days. Nothing could distract him from his brother's face, or him wondering if he'd ever see him open his eyes again. But...George _had_ to open his eyes, right? George _couldn't_ leave him. It...It was impossible. There was no just Fred or just George. It was Fred _and_ George. Gred and Forge, Forge and Gred, the unstoppable duo. To have one without the other was just absurd.

However, a deep voice broke through Fred's thoughts. "Good afternoon."

Everyone whirled around to see the tired face of Mr. Rikialria. And at once, Fred blew up. _"You!" _he growled, attempting to launch himself at him. Bill, being closest to him, managed to catch him before he all but ran the Healer over. _"You were supposed to help him!"_ There were a few moments of flailing limbs before Bill wrestled him to the ground and sat on his back, much like Fred had when he and George had had their first meeting with Mr. Rikialria.

"I did exactly what I told Mrs. Weasley and George," Mr. Rikialria replied patiently. "It was and still is the only way to help him."

"You are _not_ saying that he has to go through this again!" Fred roared, though it was less aggressive as it should have been, but seeing as there was a certain older brother sitting on his back, it was the best he could do. Everyone held their breath.

Mr. Rikialria looked sympathetic. "I'm afraid so."

"What?" Ron spluttered, looking aghast. "What do you mean? It's already killed him!"

Fred instantly bucked Bill off of him and rounded on Ron, fire in his eyes. _"It. Has. Not. Killed. Him." _Fred said in such a low, deadly voice that Ron recoiled conspicuously.

"Almost," he squeaked, backing up into Harry. "Almost killed him."

"It's the only way," Mr. Rikialria said sadly. "You have to choose between possible death or certain death."

"But to cause him so much pain?" Charlie choked.

"If there were any other way," the Healer sighed regretfully. "I would do it."

"What are you even doing to him?" Harry demanded, glancing back to George's unconscious body.

"It's quite complicated, actually," Mr. Rikialria responded, having a seat in one of the empty chairs. "The brain is a delicate thing. And in order to fix it completely, we need to use George's own magic in order to do so." Some people gasped, while others looked utterly clueless.

"Er, come again?" Harry asked.

"A person's magic is not to be controlled or used by anyone other than the owner," Mr. Rikialria explained. "It's dangerous to do so, but when combined with another person's, it can achieve nearly any possibility. Fortunately, only Healers know how to do this and only know about it. But...it's quite painful. So much so, that the pain of it kills some people." Fred emitted a strangled sound from his throat. "Not many people do die, though. But it takes many meetings to cure completely."

But Fred bolted upwards and ran back towards George, sitting in the same position he had been all day. And he began his slow erosion of his bottom lip, while his fingernails worked on growing before they got attacked again.

* * *

><p>Pain.<p>

Agonizing, excruciating, _rather-have-my-limbs-slowly-chewed-off-by-a-house-elf_ kind of pain. George felt like begging at whoever was standing above him, because at that moment, he had no idea. Everything was black and all he wanted was to pass out, to die...anything to get rid of the horrible pain that he felt was slowly killing him.

His head felt a billion times worse than he had ever felt, like someone had taken a blunt instrument and started to saw his head open. All his strength, all his willpower was being sucked out of him, and then...

It started slow, like a seed being planted in his mind. And suddenly, he felt it breach his present mind from his subconscious, sharply poking him until his eyes were clouded by little snipets of memories.

_"I'm bored," Fred whined, coming to sit down beside me. It was the evening and Fred had been absent-mindly pacing the Common room while I sat on the couch, scanning through all of the ingredients and instructions that went along with our Puking Pastilles. For some reason, we still couldn't seem to perfect the antidote, since every time we tried we ended up going to the Hospital Wing due to the fact that we were puking ourselves to death._

_I raised an eyebrow but didn't look up from my list. "Then you can help me work out these kinks in the Puking Pastilles instead of dumping them all on me."_

_Fred pretended to look thoughtful. "Mmm...nah, I'm good." He yawned and stretched while I rolled my eyes._

_"Prat," I grumbled, a little annoyed at my twin. "I'm always the one doing the boring stuff."_

_"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, George," Fred smirked. "If you really want me to look it over -"_

_"I do," I replied simply, shoving it over to him._

_"I mean, if you absolutely could not bare -"_

_"I can't," I smiled sweetly, patting Fred on the back as I stood up and headed over to the dormitory. Fred looked unhappy. "Oh, and when I wake up, everything better be fixed," I grinned. "Have fun!"_

"""""""""

_"Oh Percy!" their mother cried when their older brother opened his Hogwarts letter to see __a Prefect's badge in it. "Percy, I'm so proud of you!" She engulfed him into a huge hug, while he seemed to puff out his chest a little._

_I rolled my eyes along with my twin. "Oh sure," Fred moaned, waving his hand in Percy's general direction. "Of course Perfect Percy is a Prefect."_

_"Yeah? He also has the big head to match," I remarked, disgruntled. _

_"Why is it that everything he does is right, and everything we do is wrong?" Fred asked._

_I smirked. "Because everything we _do_ do is wrong."_

_My twin grinned. "Which is the best kind of right."_

"""""""""

_I stared up at the ceiling, my tiny, baby hands grasping at the air as I attempted to catch hold of something. But then I felt movement beside me, and I saw a baby I instantly recognized grabbing at the air too, but his face held a look of determination. His hands weren't displayed out above him, fruitlessly trying to hold on to just anything. They were directed more towards my own._

_A little confused, I didn't know what else to do but try and reach over to where my twin lay, almost like we were magnets for each other. And suddenly, after many bumps of soft palms and thumbs, we managed to grab hold of each other's tiny hands, rolling over slightly in the process._

_We didn't know the purpose of it, at least I didn't, but all we seemed to know was that we needed to grab hold of each other and never let go, because if we lost each other, where would that leave us?_

And just as quickly as the memories had flashed before him did George feel himself getting rudely jerked back into awareness of the here and now. It felt like someone had tied a rope to him and yanked, because all of the sudden George's eyes fluttered open, and he saw Fred's face peering anxiously down at him.

"Hi Fred," he had croaked, using his last bit of strength to acknowledge that his twin was there.

"I'm here, Georgiekins," Fred had whispered in turn, though to George it sounded murky, like he was trying to talk to him from under water.

George's eyes closed, and he felt like he was losing himself. The pain was just too much, and every ounce of him that was left to try and keep him alive was slowly giving up. _This must be what dying feels like,_ George wondered to himself, and found that he didn't like it at all. But he fought to remain conscious, if only to clear the guilt of knowing he was leaving his twin.

But some bitter, burning liquid had been shoved down his throat, and he felt himself gag on it before he could even utter a sound. His breath was ragged, and he felt like he couldn't get enough oxygen to his lungs. But George couldn't let himself go just yet. "I'm...sorry..." he had gasped to Fred.

"No," Fred had shaked his head, and George saw with a pang of remorse that his eyes were watery. "No, no, George, you can't! I'm not saying goodbye, damn it! I'm not," he sobbed.

But as much as George wanted to stay, to tell Fred it was alright, to stop weeping over him, he felt his eyes beginning to close.

"Please," Fred begged, placing his hands on either side of George's face and staring directly into his half-lidded eyes. "Please, don't leave me."

_Stay! _he barked to himself. _Don't do this to Fred after everything he's done for you! Fight it! _George used all his willpower to wrench his eyes open and lift a shaky hand to touch Fred's cheek. He couldn't speak, but he hoped to Merlin that Fred knew he'd give it everything he had.

And soon, it was too much for George to remain conscious, and he slipped back under as his hand fell to the bed.

There, George succumbed to the feeling of bliss. No pain, no worry, and no guilt. He was just absent of every feeling, and it was peaceful. He hadn't a care in the world as he drifted, not thinking, and best of all, just being plain old numb.

But the more he floated, the more the weight of this numbness seemed to crush him. It was gentle, but deadly, and he was perfectly content in letting it suck the life out of him. But...

Fred's face floated into view, blocking out all other senses. It was like a slide show of him smiling and laughing and of his face twisted in anguish when he saw George dying. And suddenly, Fred started drifting away from _him._

_Wait,_ George moaned, trying to reach out and grab him. _Come back!_ He struggled and fought even though he felt like an entire train was attached to his ankles, and finally he burst through the fog and gasped, his eyes flittering open.

* * *

><p>"Fred. Fred, wake up."<p>

The ginger groaned softly, feeling the ache in his back roar to life at his uncomfortable position. He peeked one eye open, bleary-eyed and not quite sure of his whereabouts for a few seconds. "Wha' happa?" he slurred.

"We're going home," the voice said softly.

Fred's eyes pinged open at that, and he whirled around to stare at Bill, who had been behind him with his hand on Fred's shoulder. "W-What do you mean we're going home? George -" Fred stared at his unconscious brother. "He's...he's not..."

Bill refused to look him in the eye. "There's nothing more they can do for him." Everything was silent for a while.

Until a crash alerted the oldest sibling to Fred's rage. A chair was smashed against the wall and Fred was heading for another one. "Fred!" Bill cried, rushing over and attempting to stop him.

But Fred was on a rampage. He all but flattened Bill to the ground as he grabbed another chair and with a roar of fury and pain, chucked it at the wall. "This wasn't supposed to happen!" he bellowed, throwing yet another chair. He rounded on Bill and snarled, "You! You wouldn't let me get him! This never would have happened if you hadn't...you..." He launched himself at Bill, punching and attacking him with all his might.

Bill fought back, if only to get him off of him. Fred's fist connected with Bill's jaw while in turn Bill grabbed on to Fred's shoulders and banged him in to the floor. When Fred managed to get back on top again, he aimed a good kick to Fred's stomach after he had dug his nails into Bill's forearm and the younger brother groaned as he landed a foot or two away from him.

"Stop...it..." Bill panted, glaring at Fred, who was eyeing his long hair as his next victim. "I didn't -" But his voice faltered when his eyes suddenly landed on George. "Merlin's beard..." he breathed, eyes wide. Fred followed his gaze and fell over.

Scrambling to his feet, Fred hopped over the sides of George's bed and landed in a messy heap near George's feet. George, who had gasped and wrenched his eyes open before Bill spotted him, lit up when he saw his brother. "Fred!" he beamed, albeit wearily.

Fred looked like Christmas had come two days early and jumped forward to latch himself to George's neck. "You great bloody git," he half-sobbed, caught between happiness, fear, and sorrow to really unleash it all. However, he made up for it by nearly cutting off his twin's circulation.

"Can't...breathe..." he choked, but Fred only loosened up a little. And Bill hadn't been too far behind.

"MUM!" Bill cried out the door before he ran to George's side and engulfed him in a large hug as well, even though he had to accompany Fred in it because Fred would not let go.

Everyone burst back through the door, but whatever they were expecting, it certainly had not been what they found. Everyone stared for a milisecond, shock written all over their faces, before they all screamed in unison, "GEORGE!"

* * *

><p>Fred had a hard time battling off everyone's hands as they tried to hug him. He turned downright dragonish at anyone who came within five feet of his bed, and actually bit Charlie when he hugged George too long. George was highly amused at this, or he would have been if it didn't feel like his brain was on fire. He snuggled as comfortably as he could, with all things considering, into Fred's neck, feeling him pet his hair like a cat and snarl at anyone who dared to disturb their position. They hadn't talked much, except at first when Fred yelled at him for giving him a heart attack, but George figured he was forgiven when Fred had settled himself beside him and tucked his twin's head under his chin.<p>

George whimpered occassionally, and each time Fred would stiffen and hug him closer, muttering words that sounded like a mixture between curses and low oaths under his breath. Right now was no exception. They had all but a few more minutes before the Healers came in and someone would have to restrain Fred before he killed them all.

Though, he'd probably kill whoever came into the room next, because Fred hated the amount of people around them. It annoyed Fred more than anything that it was not just them two having their own little reunion. No, there was Mum, Charlie, Ron, and Harry. It was four people too many, and Fred was just about ready to claw them to pieces. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, but it did. Fred just wanted George to himself, even though he knew they all had a right to be around him. He just wanted it to be Gred and Forge, like it had always been.

But even as he thought, Mr. Rikialria entered the room, followed by Ginny, Bill, and Hermione who had gone to get him, and Fred was blinded by rage. _It was all his fault George nearly died! _That was the only thing that was coherent in his mind. He struggled to get out of his bed so he could attack him, but George's yelp in his ear as he jostled him stopped Fred cold. He whipped around to look him worriedly in the eye.

George cringed, but managed to shake his head slightly in warning, his expression telling him not to do anything. Fred instantly headed him and leaned back, settling for simply glowering at the Healer. Bill was slightly dumbfounded; he had to wrestle Fred to the floor and _sit_ on him to stop Fred from attacking the man, and all George had to do was shake his head. He would never understand twins.

Sensing the hostility from the young man, Mr. Rikialria offered him an apologetic smile for his twin's condition, but Fred was far from forgiving. That'd always been George's job. His job was to hold the grudges. However, the Healer quickly turned his attention to the other ginger in the bed. "Ah, George, how are you feeling?"

Fred gave a low growl as George responded weakly, "I've been better."

Mr. Rikialria approached, and Fred's snarls got louder. "Maybe you should wait on the other side of the room," George murmured. But Fred shot him such a withering glare that George actually shrunk away from him.

"Actually," Mr. Rikialria told him pleasantly, "I do need you to move, Fred, so I can do my examination of George."

Fred moved about half a centimetre, crossed his arms and glared.

"Fred," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Move."

George gave him a wan smile as Fred grudgingly was pulled out from beside him. Mr. Rikialria approached, and the ginger trembled slightly, remembering that the last time he came towards him he felt unimaginable pain. Fred glowered fiercely as Charlie gripped his arm just in case he decided to do something.

Yeah, okay, _maybe_ he was a sap when it came to George. But could anyone really blame him after everything that had happened?

Mr. Rikialria passed his wand over George, and similar puffs of colours came out of the tip and he murmured the same unknown words. George continued to shake, looking so frightened that Fred was horrified at what he must've felt to be so afraid. Finally, Mr. Rikialria put his wand down and stepped back before turning to the family. "Well, we've made some progress," he said, a little relief in his voice. "Not a lot, as it was the first time, but that's completely normal. The more we do it, the more will come back, but we will have to do it often for it to continue to be effective." George blanched, closing his eyes.

"No," Charlie said, eyes on George. Everyone looked at him, surprised; they'd expected Fred to have reacted instead. "No, you can't make him do this - Mum, you can't..."

"He will _die_ unless we do this," Mr. Rikialria implored urgently, his calm façade gone. "I know this is hard for everyone, but I guarantee that this time next year he will be dead unless we fix it now. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," George stammered. Fred locked gazes with him, and continued to stare even after George looked away. "I mean, it's a do or die situation, right? I don't have a choice. It's okay. I can take a little pain," he smiled weakly.

The look on Fred's face was torturous. He remembered the last time he said that after he came out of Umbridge's detentions. He didn't _want_ George to have to be able to take 'a little pain.' It wasn't fair. He'd gladly change places with him if it were possible. Or at least let him shoulder the load. Something, _anything_ other than watching him go through it by himself.

Mr. Rikialria nodded. "I think he should stay here overnight, but he should be okay with going back home tomorrow."

Immediately, seeing that the Healer was done speaking, Fred clamoured over the side of George's bed. He could hear everyone talking about getting a few beds for Fred, Mum, and Dad, but he ignored their conversation.

"You're not going to go in a different bed, are you?" George asked softly as Fred settled beside him and tucked his head under his chin.

Fred shook his head, mussling up George's hair in the process, and breathed, "No," before he hugged him even tighter.

* * *

><p>"Hey Fred?" George whispered blearily, his voice leadened from being a breath away from sleep. They were entangled in their sheets, the bed big enough for them to lie down, but not big enough to really move around. And since it had an anti-enlargement spell on it, they had to make do. "I think I know why I remembered the ingredients to the Puking Pastilles that day in the dormitory."<p>

"Yeah?" Fred asked keenly, looking down at the ginger head.

Their pillow was suddenly wrenched from underneath them, and before Fred could react, it hit him in the face. "Because I had to stare at it for hours trying to figure out how to get the kinks out of it, you git," George replied in an amused voice.

Getting over his surprise, Fred pulled the pillow off of his face and grinned as he tucked it back behind them. "Like I said, _you're_ the smart arse out of the two of us. I'm just here for my devilishly handsome looks."

George rolled his eyes, a response Fred couldn't see but knew very well that he did. "You wish. But _I'm_ the one girls will fawn over, seeing as I _am_ injured and all."

"Mental's more like it." Fred paused, wondering if maybe that hurt his feelings. "Er...I mean -"

This time George used his hand to lightly smack Fred's shoulder. "I already told you that you're allowed to be an insensitive git. Now you better not do anything else because I can't very well reach the pillow anymore and -" He paused.

Fred sighed sadly. "And you're in pain."

George didn't say anything, but seemed to wiggle a bit as his form of an answer.

"Do you need anything?" Fred's voice was devoid of any and all teasing.

George shrugged. "I'm okay."

"Do you want me to move? Because I can if it -"

The twin shook his head, cutting off his speech as he clutched on to Fred even tighter. "No. I don't want to be alone."

Fred moved slightly so he could run his hand through George's hair, planting a kiss to his brother's hair after a few moments. "Go to sleep, Georgie."

And after a little while, George's breathing slowed down to deep, even ones. And once this happened, Fred felt it safe enough for him to let himself drift off to sleep with him.

* * *

><p>Reviews are extremely exciting to receive :D<p> 


	14. The Great Beyond

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much to **EricaX**, ****SolelyReader****,** **hachoo****,** **Pinkranger888****,** **HappyIsWhatHappens, HannahSchultz****,****Nexina****,****Toxic-Wings****,** **Moonlight900****,** **Cristina Weasley****,** **Aris1013****, and** **romirola**** for reviewing! :D It makes me so happy when I see people have reviewed :D haha so thanks! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter whatsoever.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**The Great Beyond**

_I'm pushing an elephant up the stairs,  
><em>_I'm tossing up punch lines that were never there,  
><em>_Over my shoulder a piano falls,  
><em>_Crashing to the ground.  
><em>_I'm breaking through, I'm bending spoons,  
><em>_I'm keeping flowers in full bloom,  
>I'm looking for answers from the great beyond.<br>_**~ 'The Great Beyond,' R.E.M.**

It took a couple days before George could go about his day the way he normally would. He almost even had to spend the entire Christmas day in bed, but Fred was with him no matter where he was, so it wasn't too bad.

George's headaches hadn't really died down at all, but after talking about it with Mr. Rikialria (at a safe distance of course), he was told to keep taking the medicine Madam Pomfry gave him if it helped. He was also informed that in a few weeks time George would be needing to see him again, but he had agreed to come to Hogwarts and treat him rather than having George go to St. Mungo's. That way people wouldn't be asking too many questions if every few weeks he disappeared from the school altogether. Plus, Fred would be throwing a fit each time if he wasn't allowed to come, so staying in the Hospital Wing seemed like the lesser of two evils.

But then of course, Fred threw a fit if anyone so much as disrupted George while he slept, so everyone shuddered at the kind of state he'd get himself into if he would've been unable to go. The entire family witnessed a different side to Fred that no one had ever really seen before. They knew that being twins they had a different kind of bond than most siblings, but Fred was like a very protective mother hen. He never left his side and refused none too politely any sort of help. And if anyone persisted, he did a very accurate demonstration of what he did to Bill when he tried to make him leave George's room. Fred tended to George like his life depended on it, and perhaps in some ways it did. After all, you couldn't have _'Fred'_ without an immediate _'and George'_ after it. Anything else was just sounded plain wrong.

"So of all the things you had to remember, me being lazy and _Percy_ getting his _Prefect_ badge was what came back?" Fred asked, dumbfounded.

George was propped up against his headboard of his bed, having spent most of the day with the household but found himself getting weak and tired. Fred helped him up the stairs, but couldn't resist asking him one question that had been on his mind since the moment he knew George would be alright. Fred was sitting on his own bed a few feet away, staring at his brother with an incredulous expression.

George hadn't mentioned to Fred about the baby incident, because he just didn't think it needed to be mentioned. Besides, what would he make of _that?_ So worn out but utterly curious, George yawned, "What's wrong with Percy, anyway? You never told me he was our brother." The look George gave him was accusatory.

Fred snorted. "Who would _want_ to remember big-headed Percy? Believe me, if I had the chance to forget him, I'd jump at it, mate."

The twin raised an eyebrow. "That bad, huh?"

Fred nodded. "Basically, he chose the Ministry over Harry and our Dad, saying how we were all stupid for believing Harry and Dumbledore about You-Know-Who being back, and I think he said something about Dad being worthless, but you get my drift. He's a great, power-hungry prat." He muttered to himself bitterly, and George caught words that implied a nasty prank on this Percy fellow.

"Er...why is it stupid to believe Harry?" George asked, confused.

"It's not. The Ministry's a coward and they refuse to believe that You-Know-Who's back, even though he clearly is," Fred grumbled. "So they're making up stories about how Harry's an attention-seeking liar and Dumbledore's an old fool."

George frowned. "That's stupid."

"Yeah, well, it's the Ministry, ain't it?" Fred smirked. They fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. But as Fred's musings drifted towards Quidditch, he felt he needed to say something. "You won't be able to play Quidditch when we get back."

George looked down at his hands. "Yeah, I know," he said quietly.

"What should we tell everyone?" Fred asked hesitantly.

His brother sighed. "The truth, I suppose. I mean, what else can we do? Angelina will explode if we give her a lame excuse or just say I resign."

"But what about everyone else?' Fred asked desperately. "What can we tell them? They all know how much you love it, they won't expect you to just up and quit."

"I don't know. I don't know, Fred," George finally whispered. "I'm not sure I want the entire world to know I'm mental," the corner of his mouth twitched at that, "but I don't see any other option. Besides, no one would actually have a go at me, right?"

Fred gave him such a disbelieving look that George knew he must've said something extremely stupid. "Okay, I'll let this one slide because you don't remember anything, but Merlin's beard, George, they'd have a go at you even if you were blind, deaf, and missing both your arms. And were unconscious."

Despite the situation, George let a chuckle pass through his lips and hold up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I got it. I'm a moving target. But I can handle it."

Fred felt like arguing, but he knew he wouldn't win. So he sighed. "If you're okay with it..."

George smiled reassuringly at his brother. "I am. Now, if you're all done being serious, I'm going to sleep."

Fred cocked up an eyebrow as George struggled to lie down. He snickered. "Need help, O Disabled One?"

He mock glowered at Fred, but then gave a sheepish grin. "Maybe. But I prefer to be called, 'Oh Disabled One, His Crippled Leige,' thank you very much."

Fred snorted, but walked over to help George lie down. "Thanks," he replied sincerely as he nestled himself in his covers and closed his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," Fred murmured in a purposely bad attempt at sounding annoyed. "You're just lucky that you haven't bored me yet."

He faintly heard the sound of George's muffled scoff, before his breathing already began to even out. Fred grinned before he settled himself in his bed, waiting for when George awoke.

* * *

><p>"HURRY UP YOU LOT!" roared Mrs. Weasley. It was really amazing the set of lungs she had on her. "OR WE'LL ALL MISS THE BUS!"<p>

"Er...bus?" George asked, cringing as their mother's voice vibrated in his ear drums. Thankfully, his body was nearly fully recovered from his experience at St. Mungo's, so he was okay to go back to Hogwarts. But his headaches weren't gone, so, if possible, Mrs. Weasley's voice was even louder and more painful than usual.

"Oh, yeah, well normally we take a train to Hogwarts," Fred replied as he jammed his foot into the wrong shoe, while his other foot remained clad in his sock. "But we're taking the Knight Bus this time."

"Shoe, Fred," George said absent-mindly as he tried to gather as much stuff into his arms as possible to shove in his trunk.

"Oh, right, thanks."

"So, why are we taking a bus this time?" George pressed as he began attempting to close his trunk.

"I...huh," Fred paused thoughtfully. "You know, I have no idea. I've never been on it before."

"You haven't?" George asked apprehensively.

"Nah, but don't worry, Harry has and he's still alive," he grinned cheekily.

George rolled his eyes. "Yes, but he's also faced You-Know-Who and survived. That's not really comforting."

"Yeah, well, I guarantee you that if we die you're allowed to kill me." He walked over to sit on George's trunk for him.

George snapped it shut. "Thanks."

"No problem," Fred replied in an offhanded way. "Let's get downstairs before Mum -"

"BOYS!"

"Nevermind."

They trumped down the steps, George cringing the whole while, and entered the kitchen just as it seemed that Mrs. Weasley was about to scream again. "Well there you are!" she huffed.

"Yeah here we are. But Mum? You might want to keep it down for Georgie," Fred jerked his thumb towards his twin. "I mean, you're loud on the quietest of occassions."

She looked horrified. "Don't worry," George said quickly, feeling a suffocating hug coming on. "It's no problem, really -" But it was too late. Mrs. Weasley jumped on George and squeezed him so hard he felt himself going blue. He glared at Fred over her shoulder as he quietly shook with laughter.

Fred took pity on him after a while. "Mum," he walked forward and not so gently forced her off of him. "We're hungry."

"Of course," she sniffed, obviously making an attempt at whispering.

Everyone else filed into the kitchen, along with Tonks and a man named Remus Lupin. Apparently, they already knew of George's condition and asked him about it as soon as he entered, much to his embarrassment. Harry and Ron came a little later, but soon they were all shoving food down their throats while their Mum tried to yell at them all to hurry up while respectably keeping her voice down. Let's just say she wasn't successful.

"But I knit these mittens for you!" Mrs. Weasley told them insistently when they were getting ready to leave.

"Mum, we don't _wear_ mittens, you know that," Fred said exasperately.

"We don't?" George whispered.

"Well excuse me if I didn't want you two to freeze," she replied hotly.

The twins shared a look. It was too early to start a row. "Er...they're great," George remarked feebly, taking his pair. On the back was a gold letter 'G' and the rest of it was red. Gryffindor colours, he realised.

"Yeah, exactly what we wanted," Fred continued, taking his own with a letter 'F' on them, though there was sarcasm laced in his tone. Whether Mrs. Weasley didn't hear it or chose to ignore it, they didn't know, because she smiled proudly.

Hugs were shared all around, and there was so many of them that Fred could've sworn he'd hugged a few people twice. They walked outside with Lupin and Tonks. George nearly walked on to the street, but Lupin threw out his arm to stop him just as Fred grabbed the collar of George's jacket.

Surprised, a he stumbled backwards just as a loud 'BANG' crashed over his ears. He whimpered, wincing quite noticeably.

"You okay?" Fred whispered in his ear as the purple sides of the Knight Bus suddenly appeared before them.

George rubbed his head and muttered, "Never better." Why did everything have to be so loud? Fred frowned as they were ushered on board.

"Fred, George, Ginny, you lot go to the back," Tonks instructed. "Remus will go with you."

The group didn't hear where everyone else would be sitting as they were coaxed into the back and shoved into seats. However, they mostly all got separated once they got there. Ginny got squashed between two burly men and Remus sat next to a rather old looking women. Fred and George managed to squeeze themselves next to the window, where a man that looked like he might be completely made out of gauze sat eerily still beside them, taking up most of the space.

"Yes, this is much better than trains," George remarked dryly, his body smushed against the window while Fred tried his best not to elbow him in the face. "Because Merlin forbid we have room to breathe."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Wasn't my choice, now was it sunshine?"

George sighed, "Yeah, I kno-" But the bus suddenly took off, and George was thrown back into his seat with a yelp. His heart jumped to his throat as the bus suddenly took off, faster than the speed of light. He unconsciously gripped on to Fred's arm, his eyes wide with alarm.

"Mother of -" Fred swore as he was jolted backwards. Obviously neither of them had expected this, and by the low shriek that could only be labeled as Ginny, neither did she. The two collided with each other none too gently every other second, and a few times they got so squashed they couldn't tell whose arm was whose.

And suddenly, the bus came to such a harsh stop that George nearly mashed his face into the seats in front of him. But Fred had quicker reflexes. He grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and saved his nose from getting broken.

George rubbed his tense muscles and said, "Thanks, mate."

Fred was meanwhile trying to get a kink out of his neck as he replied, "Don't mention it."

"Fred, George," came Lupin's voice. They saw Ginny right behind him as the man gestured for them to get up.

"Thank God," they said together and they spent the next five minutes trying to get over the man. For some reason, it was harder getting out than in. It ended up with George, who Fred had made go first, and Lupin grabbing Fred around the arms and tugging as hard as they could. Fred eventually came loose and nearly knocked George over, but Lupin caught them before they hit the floor. The twins glared at the man before they trodded after Lupin, swearing under their breaths.

Once outside, they all said their goodbyes. "Make sure you look after youself, alright?" Lupin said seriously, and George felt weird being told this by someone he didn't remember. You'd think he would've gotten used to it, but it was still as unpleasant as the first time it had happened.

"Er...sure," George said awkwardly as Lupin shook his hand. He gave him a sympathetic look, another thing George should've gotten used to but didn't.

"And _you,"_ Tonks suddenly said, looking pointedly at Fred. "Make sure he's looked after."

George blushed embarrassedly. "I don't -"

But Fred had already saluted her. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!"

She gave them each hugs and Lupin shook Fred's hand while they moved onwards to everyone else. George shifted his weight from foot to foot, glancing up at the school and refusing to look at the two adults.

After all was said and done, they started the slippery climb up to the castle. Hermione was talking about knitting hats for house-elves, but George didn't understand why they'd need them; he'd never seen them leave the school. But judging by the expressions on everyone's faces, he got the feeling that giving them hats was a no-no.

"Well, look at what we've got here," came a leering voice. They all whirled around to find Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle smirking at them.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron shot.

Malfoy's sneer got more prominent, and Fred felt his nails dig into his palm. It was all their fault George had to go through so much pain. It was all _their_ fault he nearly died twice already. He was absolutely shaking with suppressed fury, and Malfoy noticed. "Maybe you should attach a parachute to you, eh Weasley? That way your Mudblood brother won't have to catch you the next time we knock you off your broom," he sneered.

George didn't get his chance to reply, because he was knocked roughly aside as Fred charged towards him. Harry, Ron, and Hermione grabbed on to his robes, Harry and Ron more reluctantly. "Say that again," Fred snarled. "Give me a reason, and I swear I will."

"Do what?" he mocked. "Cry?"

"Look you little -" George growled, but an annoying voice cleared their throat behind them.

_"Hem hem."_

_Oh bloody hell,_ George groaned.

_"What_ is going on here, Mr. Weasley?" Dolores Umbridge asked sweetly, her eyes on George.

Fred tensed something terrible. His brother was starting to have worse luck than Harry. "Malfoy was being a git," Fred gritted his teeth.

She looked positively ecstatic. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"I didn't do anything," he smirked. "They just came and attacked us."

"That's a lie you -" Harry said angrily, laying out such a string of profanities that Dolores' eyes gleamed.

"Detention for you Mr. Potter and you," she looked at George, "Mr. Weasley."

Fred made such an obscene gesture that Umbridge couldn't resist. "Make that detention for both of you Weasleys, and Potter." Fred was surprised; this was the first detention from her he'd ever gotten. But she obviously had something sinister in mind, and it made him uneasy.

George cuffed his twin's head, giving him a hard look. The last thing he wanted was for Fred to join him in the torture session. "Good job, you git."

"I'll see you all tonight at seven," she smiled widely, giving them all meaningful looks, and leaving them all to walk up to the castle.

Classes started promptly that morning, and it took a while for everyone to get into the swing of things. George had already forgotten his schedule, so it was a good thing that Fred was in his every class. Though he was too busy being mad at him to really feel grateful for it.

"Oh, come off it," Fred rolled his eyes after George shot him another dirty look. They were in Charms class and left to partner up to practise a spell. The twins were, of course, partners, but that didn't stop George from making sure Fred knew he was still pissed off. "Are you really getting angry at me because I have detention?"

"Yes, dammit!" George chucked a quill at his head, pleased when it made contact. "You think I want you in there? Are you _trying_ to get your hand sliced open? Really, you'd think you'd watch yourself around her after you found out what she does."

"Right, because we both know I much prefer to see you with the scars on your hand," Fred snapped back. "And if I remember correctly, _you're_ the one who's had the detentions with her."

"Yeah, well it wasn't on purpose, you dolt," George replied as if it were the most obvious thing on earth. "I just have horrible luck."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," the ginger responded sarcastically. But then he sighed. "Look, George, we both know it was bound to happen, and honestly, I'm not upset about it. Now she can't make you do two rolls because I'm there to do my share."

"So you _do_ do stupid things on purpose to torture yourself?"

"Merlin's beard, George, why are you so hung up on this?" Fred asked, bewildered.

"Because! I know what it feels like, and it is damn painful, and I..." George gulped, but looked away. He still wasn't comfortable with saying how much Fred meant to him. Even though he did let it slip that one time. But really, did Fred think otherwise? He wondered about this. "Er...nevermind. Let's just get this spell over with," he murmured.

Fred was utterly confused. _What just happened? _"Um...okay?" They worked for a few moments before he ended up asking, "Are you still mad at me?"

"Yes," George smirked. "Now shut up and practise."

* * *

><p>Harry and the twins walked solemnly towards their doom. Overdramatic? Maybe, but that was the phrase that kept repeating in their minds. Save for Fred, who also was thinking of ways to prank Umbridge into oblivion.<p>

Harry looked pale and shaky, and he kept rubbing at his scar. George wondered what happened, and felt a pain flash through him when he thought of what Harry would have to do in detention. Especially when he looked like this.

"Ready to face the dragon?" Fred rolled his eyes as soon as they reached her door.

"I think I'd rather take the Horntail," Harry grimaced.

George clapped him on the back. "Sorry, mate. Better get this over with." He knocked on the door and heard the telltale sound of Umbridge's sickly sweet voice beckoning them in.

The three of them walked in, and Fred instantly noticed that there were only two quills set up at a desk with a roll of parchment each. He found this amusing. _Did she forget about me?_ he chuckled to himself.

"Hands," she asked briskly. They held out their hands wordlessly for her inspection. "Wands."

They all looked a little surprised; she'd never confiscated their wands before, but perhaps it was because the two most devious pranksters were in her office.

Her smile turned downright toadish as she said, "Potter and Weasley," she pointed out George so Fred didn't get any funny ideas, "set up at the desk."

"What about me?" Fred asked rudely, but she didn't answer right away. She had set up the desk, he realised more clearly, so that they faced both her desk and a lone chair. George sat on the left, while Harry sat on his right.

"Oh, you will be doing a rather special job," she replied happily. Umbridge grabbed a rag and a bucket and forced it into his hands. "You see, it gets rather messy in here with all the detentions," she wrinkled her nose in what Fred thought was the ugliest way possible. "So I need you to clean up for me."

Fred didn't get what she meant. "So...what do I clean?"

Umbridge looked even more ecstatic that he had to ask. "Oh, I think the mess with start to come when those two start to write."

It clicked. Fred looked horrified, disgusted, and outraged. "You want me...to mop up my brother...and...and Harry...while they bleed to death?"

Umbridge simply smiled. "You should have known not to cross me, Mr. Weasley. Bad students deserve to be punished."

Fred gritted his teeth. "Punished. Not tortured."

She turned away from him and saw that neither Harry nor George had started writing. George was sick to his stomach when he realised what Fred would have to do. He had to get him out of detention. "Professor Umbridge," his tongue rolled around, trying out the word 'Professor' before the word for all things evil, 'Umbridge.' "What if I -" he tried to say, but he got a face full of rag.

"Shut up," Fred hissed. He knew what he was about to offer, and he was not having it. Besides, he had a plan. And he made sure he sent a harsh look in Harry's direction, because he did have a 'saving people thing.'

Umbridge smiled maliciously, so much so that it didn't even really count as a smile. "You both know what to write. Begin."

Harry and George exchanged looks, before they took a deep breath and slowly began slicing open their hands. Fred was forced to sit in front of them in the lone chair, and watch them do it, waiting for when a 'mess' had to be cleaned up. It was so inhumane, so outrageously evil, that Fred had to wonder how it could fit in such a short, stumpy body.

The two students worked with blank expressions, their faces hard as they struggled to not show any emotion. But once in a while they would slip up, and a flash of pain would shoot across their features before it was quickly diminished. And it wasn't too long before Fred was needed.

The blood from their hands were starting to fall on to the desk. Fred had to swallow to keep himself from vomiting as he walked forward and cleaned it up. But each time he would whisper hurried words of encouragement or promises like, 'I'm sorry,' 'Hang in there,' and 'We'll get her back.'

But soon, Fred's plan came into action. A loud explosion sounded and people started screaming and banging on Umbridge's door. Alarmed, Umbridge rushed forward, but not before telling them to keep working, and disappeared. Immediately, Fred jumped forward, giving the two of them the rag before he grabbed their quills.

"Let me finish them," he said quickly, "and don't argue or I will personally prank you both so hard, you won't know what happened until a month later."

Harry, who was farther along than George, reluctantly allowed his paper to be tugged away, seeing the honest truth on Fred's face that he would follow through on his threat. He wrote vigorously, shocked by how much it stung, and managed to finish the last third of Harry's roll in record time. Since this was the first time Fred had ever used the quill, and he didn't have any injuries to make his body weaker, the words healed over each time, and no blood was spilled.

George was a bit more stubborn. But after he was tackled to the ground, he gave in. George had about half a page left to write, maybe a little less, but Fred worked even faster, knowing they had a limited amount of time. The two didn't watch, but tried to nurse their wounds as best they could with the rag in front of them.

Fred, pent up with anger and frustration, barely could feel the sting anymore as he scrawled across the paper. He just hoped she wouldn't make them do a second roll.

He finally finished and shoved the quills and rolls back towards them, scooting his chair back to his original position. Which was good, because not a few moments later Umbridge came storming in. George and Fred's handwriting was basically the same, but Harry's and Fred's were different, though Fred didn't concern himself about this. The writing was bound to get messy enough that it hardly looked like their usual handwriting anyway. The back of Fred's hand was a little irritated, but very soon there'd be no evidence whatsoever that Fred was ever near the quill.

"I know one of you two did it," Umbridge hissed, glaring at Fred and George.

George looked absolutely perplexed, and Fred didn't find it hard to match his expression. "What are you talking about?"

Umbridge took out her wand and pointed it at George's face. "You know," she growled.

Fred let out a vehement cry and stood up, snarling, "We didn't do anything. We were in here the whole time, and in case you haven't noticed, they've finished."

Umbridge glanced down at the finished rolls of parchment, but continued to say furiously, "One of you got one of your little friends to do it, didn't you?"

"Do _what?"_ Harry snapped, glowering at her.

She stared them all down, tapping her fingers on her arm. "Well, I'm afraid if no one wants to confess, you all have detention until someone comes forward."

"We didn't do anything!" George yelled, balling his fists and jumping out of his seat. "You can't punish us for something you have no proof of!"

Fred felt a weight fall into his stomach. This was _not_ what he planned on happening. _This is why you need George,_ a voice inside his head scolded him. _He would've seen this coming. _"It was me," he said loudly. "I did it."

Everyone turned sharply to look at Fred, and he was horribly aware at how George's eyes narrowed for a second in skepticism before they went wide. Fred knew he knew that he was telling the truth. Umbridge's looked pleased, however.

"I knew it was you two," she grinned sinisterly.

"Wh- two?" Fred gaped. "George didn't do this."

"You expect me to believe that you acted on your own accord?" Umbridge raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "That there wasn't someone to help you?"

Fred cursed himself yet again. He never did anything without help from either Lee or his twin. He couldn't rat out Lee and Ron, but he couldn't let George serve detention for something he didn't do. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. "Yes," he said, trying to sound as confident as possible.

It didn't work. "I'll see you Weasleys in detention tomorrow. Potter," she looked highly unpleasant at having to say this. "You're free to go."

The three of them trumped out, and George caught wind of the dying smell of Dungbombs and smoke from fireworks. He didn't look or say anything to Fred, but he could feel his eyes on him the entire time. Harry didn't either, but it was most likely due to tiredness than annoyance.

They bade him goodnight before the twins headed up to their own dormitory, still not saying anything. George faced his bed, slowly pulling back his covers for some unknown reason. Fred was practically shaking with nerves. "George, I'm sorry -"

"Why?" George demanded, his voice hinting at suppressed anger. "Why'd you do it? Why must you _always -"_ he stopped himself as he slammed his hands down.

Fred flinched, eyes wide. Perhaps it was his guilt that made him so unnaturally fearful of his twin's reaction, but whatever the reason, he was terrified. "I didn't mean for that to happen, I just wanted -"

"Didn't you think that she'd find some way to blame us?" George demanded turning around to face him. "I mean, really Fred, has the last couple months taught you _nothing?_ And what more, you did it without me! You didn't even mention it to me." He looked hurt.

"You wouldn't have let me do it," Fred argued.

"No, I wouldn't!" George cried. "Because it wouldn't have been worth it! It was one detention, one roll. I could've handled it, but you had to make it worse!"

Fred felt like he just got punched in the stomach. "George, I'm sorry," Fred choked. "I'm sorry I'm the worst brother in the world. Hell, I'm the worst _twin_ in the world. All I've done is cause you more and more pain and I..." Fred blinked several times at the sting in his eyes. When had that started?

George looked at him, surprise etched across his face. _Worst brother in the world?_ "You're not the worst brother in the world, Fred."

"Yes I am," Fred's voice cracked. "I always seem to make things worse for you, and I'm so sorry. And you want to know why I didn't think of us getting into more trouble? It's because _you're_ the part of me that thinks of these things. _You're_ my filter. I don't think ahead because you're always there to do it." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "I get crazy when you're mad at me and I feel even worse when I hurt you, and I...I just...I'm just sorry."

At first, George was stunned; Fred had never said anything like _that_before. But slowly it started to seep in. He took a few steps forward and hugged him tightly. "I love you too, Freddie," he whispered. "And you're wrong. You're the best twin I could've ever hoped for, even if you are a git sometimes," he laughed lightly at the end.

But he sombered up instantly. "You know, I should really be thanking you right now."

Perplexed, Fred pulled away at looked at him. "Er...for what?"

George gave a crooked smile, looking a bit self-conscious. "You're the reason I'm still alive."

Fred smiled warmly in return. "Yeah, well, I wasn't about to give up on making you go to a Healer."

"No, it's not that," George said slowly. "When I was, erm, unconscious, I was this close," he pinched his index finger and thumb so closely together there was barely at space between them, "to death." At Fred's conspicuous wince, he hurried along. "But then I saw you. Well, an image of you, and you started walking away, and I knew I had to follow. And the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and you were staring at me like I was a ghost." He laughed feebly at the end.

Fred's throat closed up. He made little gaping movements with his mouth, looking remarkably like a goldfish as he struggled to find his voice. He hadn't known...did he really...

"So don't you go off saying you're a bad brother," he smiled sincerely. "You're the best there is."

And before George could really see what was going to happen, Fred engulfed him in another hug, and the older twin felt tears well up embarassingly in his eyes. "I..." Fred didn't know what to say. "I'm glad you're here," he said softly, his voice cracking a bit with emotion as he lay his head on George's. "I don't know what I would've done if you...had you..." He tried to clear his voice, but failed as the tears collected at the brim, threatening to spill over. "I'm just glad you came back."

"Me too," George whispered whole heartedly. But he pulled back to give him a look. "Although, if you ever try to replace me for detention or try to help me with it or do anything like that again, I will prank _you_ so hard you won't know what happened, got it?"

Fred gave a breathless laugh. These past few months he'd been so afraid of losing him. That George would hate him or, God forbid, he would die...but now, at least, he knew the former would never happen. "Got it."

George smiled, but cast a glance at all of their roommates. "Man, they are seriously heavy sleepers. I mean, we could do -"

"- Downright anything to them and they'd never even notice," Fred finished for him, grinning. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

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><p>The blue button's calling to you...it's telling you to review :)<p> 


	15. Extraordinary Machine

**Author's Note: **Thank you to **Cristina Weasley**,** **Aris1013****,** **HannahSchultz****,****chocolateMnMs****,** **hachoo****,** **Pinkranger888****,** **Moonlight900****,** **93 Diagon Alley****,** **Ridwa****, and** **Mehehe**** for your fantastic reviews! :D I'm so glad you all like my story! :D And I hope you like this chapter too! :)

**Disclaimer: **I own absolutely nothing. Except, well, this story :P

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Extraordinary Machine**

_'If there was a better way to go, then it would find me.  
>I can't help that the road just rose out behind me.<br>Be kind to me, or treat me mean,  
>I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine.'<br>_**~ 'Extraordinary Machine,' Fiona Apple**

_"Geoooorrrrgggiiieee!"_ a voice sang quite jovially.

Something small and thin repeatedly jabbed at a certain ginger's side, unwillingly yanking him from his coma-like sleep. George groaned, recognising the voice instantly and wishing it to go away. He was _not_ ready to wake up yet.

Yet the prodding continued, this time more vigorously until, out of pure annoyance, George flung his eyes open and snapped, "Cut it out, will ya?" But the sight utterly perplexed him.

Yes, it was indeed Fred doing the waking, but he wasn't beside him, poking him relentlessly with his finger or wand. Instead there was a rather long, metal stick leering right at him. Sitting up, George looked around to see Fred standing a little ways away from him, holding the other end of the metal rod. He was grinning and looking quite accomplished.

"What in Merlin's beard is that?" George asked, amused.

"What does it look like, ya berk? It's a stick," he beamed proudly.

George just stared at him. His brother really was one of a kind. "Why?"

"I was bored, okay?" he rolled his eyes, setting the oversized waking-tool down.

His brother laughed, falling back on his bed. "So what you do in your spare time is build a metal stick?"

"When I wake up at four in the morning, it is," Fred replied, grin still in place.

George yawned and propped himself on his elbows. He looked around, seeing that everyone else was still asleep. "What time is it now?"

Fred shrugged. "Six-ish, I'm guessing." He ignored George's affronted look, and said, "So what do you say if I were to offer up a bit of mischief making today?"

"Depends on whether you'll let me go back to sleep or not," George mumbled, yawning again.

Fred chuckled to himself. George always did like his sleep. "Alright, alright, you can go back to sleep."

"Good," George replied tiredly, dropping down to his pillow again. "And we better be getting Umbridge," he managed to breathe from somewhere under his sheets.

Fred snickered, moving to lounge lazily on his own bed. "Of course, dear brother of mine. Who else?"

* * *

><p>"Wha' de'cwee aw we on?" Lee asked through a mouthful of bacon, rolling his eyes in annoyance.<p>

Fred grumbled, "I have no idea, I lost count. But it's probably forty by now." He chanced a glance in George's direction, and sniggered when he found his face smushed against his palm, mouth lolling open with his eyes closed. "Oi, George, wake up," he said as gently as he could, feeling a tad guilty. George didn't exactly get the extra sleep he wanted.

George mumbled something that sounded strangely remicent to, "Shove off." Fred nudged him softly until he opened his eyes so Fred could give him an apologetic look. George gave in to the sincerity and nodded to show that he wasn't _that _annoyed anymore before he closed his eyes again.

Lee watched the exchange with interest, still not used to Fred actually, you know, being _sorry_ for something. And so easily too. Normally you'd have to shun him for a week (half a day if you were George) before he groaned out a 'sorry.' And even then it wasn't completely genuine unless he knew he really mucked up.

George was too exhausted to care that his head was slowly slipping further down until he nearly smashed his face on to the table, saved only by Fred's quick reflexes. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Fred said as he caught George's shoulders. Fred grimaced at the dark circles under his eyes, and he was left to wonder what time George managed to fall asleep at. The poor lad looked positively done in. He hadn't really realised before, but perhaps George was more fragile outside of his sick bed than he thought.

"M'fine," George murmured, shocked out of his sleepy state for a few seconds before it slowly started to seep in again. Fred bit his bottom lip, worrying it a little as he thought about how Defence Against the Dark Arts would go, with Umbridge being the usual hag she is. They had her first.

"Maybe you should say your sick," Lee said thickly as he continued to eat his breakfast, thinking along the same lines. "You can't go around all day nearly falling asleep. Skive off and catch forty." George managed to pry his eyes open to give him a confused look. "You know...take a nap?"

"Right, that'll keep Umbridge off my back," George snorted.

Fred growled low. "If she says one word..."

George shook his had to try and clear it, but that only made him dizzy. "S'okay," he shrugged, using all his willpower to keep his eyes open. "We'll get her back anyway," he smirked half-heartedly.

Lee checked his watch. "Well, we'd better go then," he sighed. The three of them walked as slowly as they could to Umbridge's room, hate pouring into each one of them with every step. Fred was less than forgiving for the absolute evil she had put them through. In fact, if he had his way, he'd hand her over to Voldemort right now to 'play' with.

"Late," Umbridge tittered as they walked in.

"What are you talking about?" Fred barked. "Half the class isn't even here yet." Which was true. The classroom looked less than full.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Umbridge smiled smugly. "And don't forget your detentions tonight."

"Shut up," Lee hissed, seeing Fred open his mouth to retort; George was too out of it to have the situation really sink in. Though there was a hint of anger lacing his tone that had nothing to do with Fred. Lee knew what the witch had made them do in detention. The infuriated twin grabbed George by the elbow and steered him to the back of the class, Lee following them.

Fred was muttering scathingly to himself as they sat, and Lee was getting a little worried that he might just up and hex Umbridge right then and there. However, George seemed to becoming more and more aware of the fury building up inside of his brother, and gave Fred a lopsided smile to reassure him. It calmed Fred down just the tiniest bit, but not enough to stop him from twirling his wand between his fingers with longing. Oh the spells he could use on her...

_"Hem hem,"_ Umbridge cleared her throat in that high pitched squeal of hers, and they became distinctly aware that the classroom had filled up more. "Wands away." There was a few minutes of rustling before the entire classroom went deadly silent, every student glaring at her with contempt.

"Take out your books and read chapters twenty through twenty three," she said as she walked down the rows of desks in her bright pink outfit. Honestly, you'd think she'd get tired of the colour after a while.

George groaned. How on Earth was he supposed ot stay awake when they had to read four boring chapters out of a Ministry-approved textbook? Nevertheless, he slowly dragged his textbook from his bag and let it fall on to his desk with a rather loud thump. Fred and Lee followed suit, making even more noise than the former. This alerted Umbridge to their presence, however, and it seemed that she finally took notice of George's worn out face.

Fred tensed something terrible as she approached their table, his hands curling and a snarl forming behind his lips. "Can I help you?" Fred said rather rudely, gaining the attention of their classmates.

"How come you're not reading?" she asked sweetly, her eyes flickering to Fred instead of staring down George.

"Maybe because ther-" Fred tried to retort, but Lee clapped a hand over his mouth.

Neither knew why she seemed to have this fascination with George, or maybe it really was with Fred and she was simply using his twin to get to him. Either way, whenever she came across them, she seemed bent on making Fred slip up so she could issue another detention to George. They were even so bold as to say that they were her favourite targets, next to Harry.

Jaw locked, George glared up at her with renewed energy. Fred shook angrily, promising Umbridge with his eyes that if she so much as said one word, she would pay very dearly. Well, moreso than she would already. Unfortunately for her, she didn't seem to heed his warning. "Perhaps you three could summarise the reading at the end of the class. Or," she said, smirking, looking pointedly at George, "Mr. Weasley could help me...demonstrate."

Snarls ripped from Fred's throat, but the sound was muffled due to Lee's hand, which he was trying to pry off. But George decided to take matters into his own hands. "We were just getting to it," George said through tight lips.

She leered, but found nothing more to say, so she walked back to the front. Fred was seething. Lee yelped as Fred bit down on his hand, filled with incomprehensible rage. That hag couldn't keep getting away with torturing his friends, and worst of all, his twin. _No one_ would get away with that, and he could make sure of that if it killed him.

"Fred," George said quietly, still sounding angry himself.

"Mate, don't make more trouble," Lee continued cautiously, massaging his hand. The last thing those two needed was another detention with the hag.

Fred slammed his hands on the desk, his eyes holding a crazed kind of fury as he turned to Lee. "I am not going to just let that _bitch_ keep taunting us! Haven't you seen what she does to Harry? To _my own bloody twin?"_

"Keep your voice down," George begged, eyes flicking apprehensively to Umbridge; the last thing he needed as _another_ detention. But if anything, that made Fred even angrier.

"I am going to _kill_ her," Fred growled, hands clenched tightly into fists. "Right bloody now." He got half way out of his chair, but George and Lee grabbed him desperately and forced him back into his seat.

"Don't be stupid," Lee snapped. But then he tried a different tactic. "Think about George, will ya?" he said under his breath, making sure George didn't hear a word. "If you do anything she'll punish George."

"Not if she's dead," he said with a maniac glint in his eyes, leaving Lee wondering if maybe he'd gone a little insane.

"Yeah? And what happens when you get sent to Azkaban? You-Know-Who's still out there, or have you forgotten?"

Fred felt his stomach drop. He forgot about that. "Bloody hell," he muttered indignantly.

"We'll get her back later," George promised, a little lost as to what just happened, but seeing that Fred appeared to be calmer. "Let's just get through tonight."

Fred felt helpless and guilty again. "George -"

But George knew _exactly_ what he was going to say. "No saying sorry," he admonished gently. "Just...pretend we're doing something so she doesn't come over," George smirked.

Fred smiled half-heartedly back, and set to work.

* * *

><p>The twins walked as slowly as they possibly could to Umbridge's office, dreading it with every step. Which, you know, you couldn't blame them for. It was punishment enough being in the same room with her, but having to either slice up your hand or clean your brother up? Now that was just too despicable for words.<p>

Not to mention that despite what George said, Fred was still feeling horribly guilty. He couldn't get over the fact that it was his fault they were back in here the first place, but he felt better when he just blamed everything on Umbridge. He wouldn't have done such a thing if she hadn't been torturing his twin. And _no one _messed with Fred Weasley's twin. _No. One._

"Tut tut," Umbridge smiled in that sickly sweet way of hers when they opened her door. "Punctuality isn't really your strong suits, is it?" They just glowered at her. "Hands," she continued briskly. George held out his hand so she could see the words carved into his skin.

"Have a seat over there, Mr. Weasley," she sang before turning her beady eyes to Fred, who stared her down. "You know what to do, don't you, Mr. Weasley?" she asked softly. Fred's jaw clenched. "Give me your wand."

Fred seriously considered using his wand on her, but not wanting his brother to bear the brunt of her retaliation, he very reluctantly obeyed and walked silently to the seat facing George. His face withered into a look of worry and pain as he locked eyes with George, who gave him a crooked smile.

George would've done absolutely anything to get Fred out of the detention, and he wondered if the fact that Umbridge had forgotten to ask for his wand was a sign that tonight they'd finally get their revenge. He certainly hoped so. George just needed to find the right time to act.

"Start writing," Umbridge snapped.

George paused for a second, giving her the best glower he could manage, before he started cutting his hand open all over again. Fred clutched the armrests of the chair so hard it was really a wonder they didn't splinter. "Can't you just let us split the work?" Fred growled, eyes on George the entire time.

Umbridge merely sneered, "I think you have a mess to clean up."

Fred gritted his teeth, seeing that the blood had started to accumulate on the desk. He walked over, shakily holding the rag. "Sorry," he heard George mumble, looking up at him apologetically.

The other ginger gave a curt shake of his head. "This isn't your fault," he replied quietly, gently dabbing at his brother's hand as well as the desk.

"I have my wand," George breathed, and he sensed rather than saw Fred's eyes widen. "Distract her so she can't stop me."

Fred didn't nod, because he knew that George knew that he would do whatever it took to get back at Umbridge. Fred walked as calmly as he could to his chair, but as he reached it, he pretended to trip. He successfully launched himself at Umbridge's desk, rattling it almost to the point of tipping over. Umbridge screeched jumping up and staring at Fred, leaving George unsupervised.

_"Petrificus Totalus!"_ George bellowed, his wand pointed unwaveringly at Umbridge. She froze and fell backwards, landing with a satisfying thump.

There was a moment of silence, before the twins burst out into loud, ear splitting cheers and roars of laughter. _"WE GOT UMBRIDGE! WE GOT UMBRIDGE!" _they screamed, grabbing each other into a fierce hug of triumph as they jumped all around. George's hand didn't even hurt at this point. "What should we do with her?" George asked, his eyes gleaming.

"Anything," Fred replied happily, grinning from ear to ear. "Absolutely anything. Any punishment is worth whatever we end up doing."

"Who said anything about punishments?" George remarked smugly. "Doesn't Hermione know how to do a pretty good 'Obliviate' charm?"

Fred gaped. "Merlin's sack...you are _brilliant!" _He nearly flattened George to the ground with the exuberance of his hug-attack. "This widens the door exponentially!"

George couldn't stop the beam that seemed permanently stuck on his face. "So what's first?"

* * *

><p>The twins could never remember feeling quite as giddy as when they went to bed that night. They thought they did a rather impressive job, if they did say so themselves.<p>

They had snuck out of the room after they figured out what to do, and headed to the Great Hall. There, they transfigured her head into that of a nasty, warty toad, and levitated her to the ceiling. And with permanent sticking glue, they stuck her shoes to the ceiling, and only merely used the nonpermanent sticking charm to glue her feet to the shoes. They didn't want the Ministry to have to destroy half the castle to get her down, and besides, who would _want_ her there?

The two also hung a sign around her neck that read, _"I must stop trying to imitate a toad."_

Fred and George then hunted down Hermione as quickly as they possibly could, and she, quite amusedly, erased her memory of who did this to her. They then admired their work before setting off to their dormitory.

Umbridge's skirt hung past her elbows. They couldn't wait to see everyone's reaction to _that._

Revenge was sweet.

* * *

><p>Review please :)<p> 


	16. The Riddle

**Author's Note: **AHHH! :D 100 REVIEWS! :D and I'm sorry for the late-ish update, school's been murder :/

**Disclaimer: **Nope :) do nooooottttt own Harry Potter or its characters.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**The Riddle**

_'Here's a riddle for you.  
>find the answer.<br>There's a reason for the world.  
>You and I.'<em>  
><strong>~ 'The Riddle,' Five For Fighting<strong>

It was Saturday morning, which, in Quidditch terms, roughly translates to All Day Practise. Angelina had booked the field for the maximum limit of hours, and even when that was over, she was planning on holding the team for off-the-field strategy practise. People seriously thought she could've given Oliver Wood a run for his money.

But she, like everyone else, wanted to be prepared. Tomorrow was their first Gryffindor verses Syltherin game, and they had a new Beater. His name was Jack Sloper, but everyone agreed that he wasn't exactly brilliant. He could hit the Bludger well enough, but he didn't have the sixth sense the Weasley twins seemed to have about when and where the Bludger would be. And even Fred said he didn't like playing with him. He assured George time and time again that he'd much rather play with him, though George never actually voiced it. Not that he couldn't see for himself Fred's disdain.

With Fred's help, George had briefly described his condition to Angelina. She, like his family, were horror struck and apologised profusely about ever giving him a hard time when he came back to the team. They hadn't announced it to everyone, but if someone came up to ask why he no longer played on the Quidditch team, he'd tell the truth. Unfortunately, that little bit of information would eventually circle back to the Slytherins, and he wasn't sure what he'd do then.

But despite having to be briefly separated due to Quidditch (though Fred made George sit in the stands), Fred, knowing how fragile his current condition was, was nearly breathing down his neck every second of the day. He wouldn't sleep unless George was himself, he wouldn't even eat unless George was with him. And Fred never missed a meal for _anyone._ And if George even dared going _anywhere_ without him, even for a midnight stroll or to the loo without telling him, Fred would throw another tremedous fit. Then proceed to both glue himself to his side and give him scathing looks until George had apologised enough.

However, being twins, everyone (who didn't know about George) wrote it off as a 'stage in their twinness.' Sure, they were hardly inseparable in normal curcumstances, but now Fred hovered over George like he was expecting something to happen to him at any second. He scrutinized George for any signs of discomfort, and if he found one, he pounced on it instantly. And if anyone got too close, even family, or looked at him the wrong way, he'd bite their head off. And if anyone commented on it, he'd bite _their_ head off too.

George allowed him to do so without much complaining. He knew it gave his brother comfort to be more overprotective than usual, and besides, he didn't want to be the next one he attacked. Not to mention that it gave _himself_ more comfort to know that Fred cared about him so much. It was nice. And he knew Fred understood that.

The only problem was that it took a toll on Fred's performance. Being so overly worried about his half, Fred's gaze would bounce like a ping-pong ball, flickering between George and the practise. More often than not, Fred's lapse in concentration had earned him a good lecture by Angelina and a few teammates' bloody noses hanging over his head. George had also scolded him for this, but Fred would not change his habit. He would be _damned_ if he did not protect his twin from everything the world could throw at him. Though it seemed like the world was making a right good effort.

"FRED!" came the said Captain's voice, angrily bellowing the Beater's name.

Fred, whose eyes had been stuck on George's grimace for the past few minutes, answered distractedly, "Hmm?" He didn't hear a word she said as he replied hurriedly, "Yeah, sounds good. George?"

George looked up at the call of his name, and cursed himself for letting the headaches get the best of him. He could see Fred's eyes fill with pain, panic, and worry even from this distance. He offered up a crooked smile and a one-armed shrug, trying to tell him not to bother himself. But, of course, that would not pacify his brother.

Before either Angelina or George knew what Fred was doing, he sped towards the stands where George had sat for the past few hours. It really was hard having to sit and watch the rest of the team practise when he only got a little taste of how wonderful it was to play. Especially when that Sloper fellow kept making mistakes George himself would not have made. "Are you okay?" Fred demanded, his eyes searching George's face fiercely. "Do you need to go to Madam Pomfry? What am I saying, of course you do, c'mon, if we hurry we can -"

"Fred, breathe," George smirked, a little amused, and a little alarmed. "It's okay, it's not -"

"Don't you dare say it's not a big deal," Fred growled, his eyes flashing. George winced internally. He just broke Rule Number One: _Don't ever downplay how bad my headaches are._

He sighed. "Really Fred, Angelina looks like she's about to murder you, and anyway, it's no worse than it usually is."

Fred felt so frustratingly helpless. "There has to be _something_ I ca -"

"FREDRICK WEASLEY!"

Both twins winced. "Blimey, she's peeved," George stated, eyes wide. But before either could say another word, Angelina burst in beside them.

"What are you doing?" she roared, glaring powerfully at Fred. "You. Are. A. _Beater!_ You're job is to go after the Bludgers, in case you've forgotten! Harry nearly got his head taken off!"

Fred and George quickly glanced to Harry, who indeed look a bit taken aback. Yes, Fred would apologise to Harry for nearly killing him. But he was not going to apologise for worrying about his twin. "George was in pain," he said defiantly. "Excuse me if I wanted to check on him."

Angelina turned her scorching gaze towards George as if it were all his fault. He, in turn, shrunk away from her wrath. She opened her mouth as if to reprimand him, but luckily Fred saw this.

"Oi, don't you go having a go at him," Fred said angrily, swirling around so that he hovered in front of George, as if to protect him by shielding him from view.

"You two are impossible!" she cried furiously and frustratingly. "I don't even know what to say anymore without you contridicting yourself if George is in the picture! All I have to say," she continued in a warning tone, her eyes narrowing, "is that if you don't pull yourself together, you're off the team. And then we'll lose because both of the best Beaters in Hogwarts history can't play." George looked down guiltily.

_I should be up there. I shouldn't be letting them down. _"Don't you dare," Fred hissed to his brother, knowing exactly what he was thinking. To Angelina, he quickly put on his most charming smile and replied, "I'll do better, promise."

The Weasley charm always got them out of trouble. Angelina seemed a little stunned as she murmured, "Yeah, you better," and flew off.

"Okay, how'd you...?" George trailed off, a slight grin on his face. He had been certain Angelina would kill him.

"Weasley magic," Fred said dramatically, but he put his stern face back on. "Don't you dare start feeling guilty about this, George Weasley," he said firmly, giving him a knowing look.

George glanced down at his hands again and chewed on his lip thoughtfully. He knew _technically_ that it wasn't his fault; he couldn't help the damage that had been done to his brain. But that didn't stop him from feeling guilty about the fact that there were a lot of components in his life that he had disappointed people on. He just wanted to make one of them right.

But he was also worried. He was supposed to meet with the Healers in another week or two, and he had no idea how he'd survive. George didn't even know how he was still alive right now. If it hadn't been for his mind conjuring up an image of Fred as a last ditch attempt at living, they'd all be standing around his coffin right now. He shuddered. That wasn't exactly a heart-warming thought to have. But if he did die next time, he wanted to be able to say that he hadn't let everyone down at least.

"Hey," Fred said softly, dropping a little lower with his broom as he could peer at his brother's face. "No more doubts, okay? No more feeling guilty."

George was still biting his lip, but he nodded, a small smile coming to rest on his face. "Go back to practise. Angelina will get over your charm sooner or later, and when she does she'll be breathing fire."

Fred's eyes went wide, and he whirled around on his broom, speeding off to where the rest of the team was, leaving George alone yet again with his thoughts.

Umbridge, apparently, had been found the morning after they had hung her on the ceiling by a rather amused Professor Dumbledore. So flustered, she refused to question anyone about it, because that would mean spreading around to the people who didn't already know that half of the school saw her knickers. So they all got off scot free, much to Fred and George's smug delight.

Besides, he had more pressing concerns that think about _her._ There was still the fact that George didn't know what to expect at his next appointment. Would it hurt as much as last time? Would it hurt more? Was he as likely to die as last time? He hoped not. He couldn't do that to Fred over and over again. If it were him waiting to see if Fred was going to live every few weeks, he'd be in a mental institution right now. And George had only known Fred for five months, he could only imagine what it'd be like, and was like, for Fred. Merlin knew he was a wreck, if nearly having his neck broken off was any indication. Plus the high-security tactic he seemed to be trying on him now.

And even though it was a bit much, the whole shebang didn't annoy him. To be quite honest, it actually made him smile stupidly to himself. The only thing he didn't like was the reason behind it.

George sighed, scuffing his shoes against the floor of the stands. Why did this whole thing have to happen? _Why_ had those stupid, malicious Slytherins hated him so much as to try and kill him? He couldn't remember any reason why, so it was a bit frustrating. And irritating. And judging by their response to him after the attack, they didn't seem too remorseful about it. In fact, George got the feeling they were a bit disappointed and upset that George dared to live.

But more importantly than them, why was _Umbridge_ so sadistic? The thought twisted sickeningly in his stomach. How could someone enjoy watching others, _students_ for Pete's sake, torture themselves forcefully? Because she made them?

_But it's not all bad,_ another part of him reminded himself, thinking of his family, friends, and the odd but kind Dumbledore. Surely they outweighed the bad. But still, the bad he could've done without.

He really needed to stop being so pessimistic. That wasn't how he was supposed to be, and worse still, he was pulling Fred and his family down with him. He made a promise to himself that he would be upbeat and happy starting now. He tested out a small smile to cover the grimace, and realised that it actually wasn't too hard of a substitute. And that would certainly keep Fred more at ease. Besides, it wasn't like he went around hating life or anything. He just hadn't had a lot of fun inbetween his winces of pain. _I should probably change that,_ he mused with a twinge of amusement.

"Earth to George," Fred suddenly interrupted his thoughts. George jumped a little, and vaguely became aware of the hand waving in front of his face. "You okay?" He still had on his uniform and his broom was held limply in hand. It seemed his desire to check on his twin again overcame changing with the team.

True to his word, George smiled slightly. "Yeah, a little bored though," he said in a mock accusatory voice.

Fred smirked. "Yes, well, since Ang -" but he stopped short when he saw who was coming on the field next. _Slytherins,_ he hissed to himself.

"I didn't see you up there today, Weasley," Malfoy called with a leer on his face. The entire team stood there with glee on their faces to watch. "Were you too scared? Was ickle Georgiekins too frightened to go on his big, bad, broom?"

Fred stood, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. "Shut the bloody hell up, Malfoy," he snapped. "It's not like you have anything to gloat about. You can have the Snitch floating above your head and you're too thick to get it."

Malfoy's face turned an ugly shade of red. "Like you can say anything, Weasley," he sneered. "I bet you can't even practise at your home. I bet you all have to share one room, eh? Can't even afford proper brooms as it is." The Slytherins all snorted their laughter.

George stood up as well, blood boiling. "I think I liked you better as a ferret," he shot back. He remembered when he had laughed himself silly when Fred told him about that. "'Course you spent the whole time in Goyle's pants, but hey, I don't judge."

Fred roared with laughter, clutching on to George's shoulder for support. _That's my boy,_ he thought proudly to himself.

Malfoy's face went even a darker shade of maroon. "You just wait, Weasley," he snarled. "You'll get yours. It's a pity that Bludger didn't take you out when it had the chance, but we'll make sure you're not so lucky next time."

"Lay one hand on him," Fred growled menacingly, moving ever so slightly to stand in front of his twin.

"I would watch your mouth then," Malfoy smirked, taking out his wand.

The ginger in front followed suit. "You just leave him alone," he said angrily. "You're lucky we didn't beat you to a pulp last time."

His smirk widened. "Are you really going to take on the Slytherin team? There're only two of you and one of you is a no good St. Mungo's patient."

George went white. _How...he can't know already?_ Fred, however, let out a protective snarl. "Yeah? Beats being a Death Eater. How long do you suppose it'll take for dear daddy to be put in Azkaban like the rest of You-Know-Who's idiot followers?"

It seemed Fred had pushed Malfoy over the edge. He raised his wand and shot a spell, not at Fred, but at George. Fred, having noticed this a second too late, attempted to dive towards George to knock him out of the way with a strangled, "George!"

The spell missed George's head by a milimetre, singeing his hair at the ends and leaving a burning hole where he was a second before. But Fred didn't even ask if he was alright before he shot up, blind with rage, and fired curse after curse at him and his team. The more cowardly of them ran screaming, while a few stayed to try and attack the Gryffindor.

George had no idea what was happening, because the second he hit the floor his entire vision went fuzzy, and every sound was murky and disjointed. He felt like his body was made of lead, and he couldn't have gotten up even if he tried. His headache, of course, grew more forceful in its pounding and George thought his head might split open. A wave of nausea hit him forcefully and he gagged as he rolled over slightly in preparation to throw up, but nothing came. However, the sound did alert Fred to his twin's condition, and he dropped to the floor in an instant.

"George? George, look at me," he said desperately, putting his hands on either side of George's face as the spells continued to fire above him. His brother seemed unable to answer or do anything but look like he was in immense pain and like he was going to puke. He cursed under his breath as he gripped his clamy hands in his own, his heart pounding wildly. _I have to get to Madam Pomfry,_ was the only coherent thought that registered in his panic-crazed mind.

But how could he do that without the Slytherin's killing him? He couldn't Apparate due to the charms around Hogwarts, how else could he -? But he was rewarded for his musings by a sharp jab at his knee. He glanced down and his heart soared. _His broom! _Of course!

"Just stay awake, Georgie," Fred murmured soothingly under his breath as he tried to somehow get George on to his broom without getting up.

George, meanwhile, was in limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness. He dazedly felt hands grabbing at him and tugging him in different directions, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The ginger didn't know what on Earth was happening to him or around him, and it freaked him out a little. _Slytherins,_ George immediately thought, and he struggled to move.

"It's me," Fred hissed as George tried to flail about and unintentionally smacked him in the face. George seemed to get the message because he just went limp again and stopped writheing. Fred gingerly dragged his brother as quickly as he could on to his broom, as it was pure luck that he happened to glance upwards. It seemed the Slytherins had taken flight, and was just about to hex them. _"Protego!"_ Fred shouted, wand pointed upward. The spell hit the protective shield harmlessly, though that didn't stop the Slytherin's from trying. And it was a great deal harder maneuvering his twin with one hand.

George tried to help, he really did. Firstly out of embarrassment. He had no idea what happened but he could only figure that he looked quite pathetic. Second out of the fact that, when he was more conscious than not, he could tell Fred was having a difficult time. He groaned and with great effort managed to roll where Fred directed him to.

Fred climbed on the broom flat on the ground and gently, with George's help, lifted his brother's body into a slumped position rather than lying down. He then leaned forward to grasp on to the handle in front of George's body with his free hand. Fred took a deep breath as he simultaneously used his bent knees to push off the ground and put his wand down, stopping the spell. They shot up into the air, smashing into bodies and wood as their broom spun upwards. They had apparently hit the hovering Slytherins on the way up, and Fred gave a maniac grin at the fact.

They shot off towards the castle, and Fred found it immensely awkward to move, seeing as he couldn't lean forward very well and his arms were extended at all times. That, and George kept bumping into his extended arms due to his weaving in and out of consciousness. "Just hold on Georgie," Fred whispered in George's ear, terror gripping him once more at what could be happening to his twin. _Please, is there no mercy?_ he thought desperately. Why..._why_ was this happening to them? More importantly, why to _George?_ If anything, he thought he deserved this more than George did. He just...he wanted George to be okay so badly. To not feel pain and not have to have all these complications and the possibility of...of death hanging over his head. A lump formed in his throat. Fred was tired of the possibility of George's death too. He couldn't live without his George, like George couldn't live without his Fred. You couldn't get one without the other, and this was the first experience that they'd ever had to go through separately.

Fred lowered quickly towards the ground, tumbling on to the grass as gently as possible because George seemed a little unable to move his legs and it was impossible to stop any other way. Fred instantly jumped up and heaved George to his feet. "Georgie, I'm going to need you to help me here," Fred panted slightly, throwing George's left arm over his own shoulder and gripped it tightly with his left hand, while Fred's right arm went around George's torso. "C'mon...please Georgiekins..." It was a mark of how truly worried he was that he didn't give a second thought to his broom.

George moaned in pain, but he somehow found the strength in him to drag his feet forward, though he leaned heavily on his brother. "S-S-Sorry," he weezed.

"Stop," Fred snapped, though not nearly as harshly as he would have done if George wasn't like this. "You have _nothing_ to be sorry for. If anything it's me that should b - "

But it seemed that if George wasn't allowed to apologise, then he wasn't going to let Fred do it either. He swung his arm so he could clamp it to Fred's mouth, using the momentum of the swing to give it enough power to reach his destination. Speech seemed beyond him, but the look he sent Fred's way said it all. _You have nothing to be sorry for either._

George's hand dropped, and Fred gave a small smile as they reached the doors. Luckily, and Fred breathed a humongus sigh of relief, Professor McGonagall was walking down that very hallway. And she happened to glance their way.

"Oh my -!" she gasped, hurrying forward. "What happened?" she demanded.

"Just help me get him to Madam Pomfry," Fred pleaded urgently, his face white. She didn't hesitate to take George's other side and help him towards the Hospital Wing. They didn't say a word to each other the whole way, and George seemed to have slipped into unconsciousness again.

They burst into the Hospital Wing, and they did look quite dramatic and almost comical if Fred did say so himself. What with the frantic, normally stern teacher holding up one side of an unconscious ginger, while his twin held on to the other side of him with his Quidditch uniform still on him. He felt the odd desire to burst out laughing, though he wasn't really sure why.

Madam Pomfry ran to them instantly, helping them towards an empty bed. "What happened?" she demanded. Professor McGonagall, too, looked interested. Fred told them all about the Slytherins goading them and attacking them, and how he pushed George to the ground to save him from a spell, but how he started acting strangely after that.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips so much that Fred thought they might dissolve into nothing. He grinned internally at the punishments Malfoy and his team were going to get. However, Madam Pomfry's expression stopped that thought in an instant.

"Who's the Healer George saw?" she asked.

"Erm...Mr. Rikialria," Fred replied, eyebrows furrowed. "Why -?" But she disappeared into her office.

"I'm going to go find Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall remarked in a frightening tone, and Fred was glad he'd never been the recepient of it before.

And soon, Fred was left alone with his brother. He sat on the chair placed beside the bed. "You know I love you, right Georgie?" Fred said softly after a few moments of contemplative silence, brushing George's hair back. "I don't know what happened today, or why, but you're going to get better. You have to. And then we'll live happily ever after selling dungbombs and the protective hats we were trying to perfect over the summer at our shop, and we'll buy our very own Quidditch pitch so we can play every day. And Harry is bound to get married to Ginny, I mean, everyone knows, so they can come over too along with the rest of the family. Well, everyone knows except Ron, but then again he's been denying he's in love with Hermione for the past four years, so I wouldn't really trust his judgement on anything."

He lapsed into silence as he sat by his brother's bedside, continuing to smooth his hair in the way he knew comforted him. "And you had better believe that we are going to live right next door to each other when we're married, and even when we're old and senile. Even then I bet we can confuse Mum as to who is who," Fred smirked. "And I will come over every day, and you had better come over too, because I'm planning on having the better house." He sighed then, suddenly somber again. "But you need to get better, Georgiekins. You don't know what it was like when I thought you'd died," he choked, his eyes stinging. "I don't ever want to have to go any longer than those few seconds thinking I'd never be able to talk to you again. I'm not going to be without you, Georgie, so you can get that idea out of your head." He leaned forward to kiss George's forehead, not caring that there were other people in the room. Granted, they were all about as unconscious as George was, but still.

And suddenly, Madam Pomfry's door burst open, and there stood George's Healer. And he looked quite upset.

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><p>Review please! :)<p> 


	17. He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother

**Author's Note:** Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry for not doing this in the last chapter (I was in a rush and it completely fled my mind!) But thank you so much to **Aris1013**, **chocolateMnMs**, **cutietrp**, **hachoo**, **EricaX**, **Moonlight900**, **93 Diagon Alley**, **Ridwa**, **Moon-Princess-Serena1993****,** for reviewing chapter 15! And thanks to **Aris1013**,** **chocolateMnMs****,** **hachoo****,** **.Happy****,** **SolelyReader****,** **EricaX****,** **Moonlight900****,** **93 Diagon Alley****,** **Shinan7****,** **HideyoshiK****,and** **Mischiefer**** for reviewing last chapter!

And as a response to one of the reviews, I know I'm being rather cruel to them as they said, but I'm afraid I'm not going to be much nicer for a bit :( It is going to be time for George's next meeting next chapter, after all :( But I hope you all will like it anyway! :)

**Disclaimer: **Sigh. You caught me. I am J.K. Rowling.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

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><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother**

'_So on we go, his welfare is my concern.  
>No burden is he to bear, we'll get there,<br>For I know, he would not encumber me.  
>He ain't heavy, he's my brother.'<br>_**~ 'He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother,' Neil Diamond**

Fred was extremely weary, and he looked it too. He had the ragged sort of look to him that only people who never sleep or has gone through a lot in a short period of time can possess. But most of all, he was panicked, and sick and tired of being so. _One day,_ he begged. _One day where nothing goes wrong. One worry, pain-free day. Is that so much to ask? _But apparently it was, if the recent events were any indication.

"What happened?" Mr. Rikialria demanded, coming over to George's bedside immediately.

"He, erm, kind of collapsed...after I kind of tackled him to the ground," Fred couldn't help but be amused at the expression on the Healer's face. "We were getting curses shot at us and I had to knock him out of the way because he almost got hit."

"At least it was for a good reason," Mr. Rikialria sighed, not entirely pleased as he stepped forward. He studied the unconscious ginger carefully for a few moments before he pulled out his wand and the familiar, colourful puffs of smoke emitted from the tip.

It lasted longer than usual, and Fred took that to be a bad sign. "Well?" he asked anxiously, his eyes glued to his twin.

Mr. Rikialria smiled. "He's okay," he replied as he tucked his wand back into his pocket. "He did knock himself a bit on the way down, but that is easily fixed. I reckon a good healing potion would do the trick. He's no more worse off than he was before."

Fred stared back at him, dumbfounded. "Er...what?" he asked stupidly. He was expecting Mr. Rikialria to say that he would never wake up, or that he lost all of his memory again. Certainly, the words 'he's okay' never registered as a possibility.

Mr. Rikialria chuckled a bit at Fred's expression. "He's okay," he repeated, clapping a hand to Fred's shoulder. "He should wake up soon."

Fred, hesitantly at first, like as soon as he started to believe him it would be yanked right from under him, gave a shaky laugh of relief. He bowed slightly into George so as to give him a messy half-hug. "Thank Merlin," he whispered.

"Now, I believe that next week should be okay for our next appointment," Mr. Rikialria replied in a buisness-like tone, though he looked apologetic.

"What?" Fred spluttered, whipping his head around to stare openingly at the Healer. "He can't. He needs to heal..."

"I'm afraid we can't wait any longer," he sighed.

"But won't that make George...can't he...you know...?" Fred whispered. He couldn't utter the word 'die.' Not with his twin's name in the same sentence.

"He's proven to be strong," Mr. Rikialria replied soothingly. "I think he can do this okay."

Fred squeezed George's hand. "Yeah," he murmured, staring at George's face. He heard the Healer's footsteps fade away as George mumbled a bit, alerting Fred to the fact that he would wake up soon. The conscious twin leaned closer to run his fingers through his hair, wanting him to be comfortable when he woke up.

"F...Fr...Fr-ed?" George croaked, eyes still closed. Though his eyelids twitched, as if they were hesitant to open them in case it wasn't Fred beside him.

"I'm here, Georgie," Fred whispered softly. "How are you feeling?"

With a sigh that sounded suspiciously like relief, George's eyes fluttered open. He gave a tiny, wan smile, looking up at Fred. "I'd be better if you told me that the Slytherins are the ones in the beds beside me," he groaned.

Fred burst out laughing. "You and me both, Georgiekins. But I did crash into them on our way out," he grinned, feeling loads better. George could always make him feel better.

George brightened considerably. "So, when do I get out of here?"

The other ginger rolled his eyes. "I'm assuming never, if Madam Pomfry has her way."

George reached up to poke Fred in the side, an amused smirk settling on his face despite the pain. "Use your Weasley charm," he told him, half teasing, half being serious. "If you can make Angelina not kill you, I think you can persuade her to let me out."

Fred beamed at him. _He remembered!_ his thoughts sang. This _had_ to be a good sign. It had to! "I'll see what I can do, dear brother of mine."

George wiggled in his bed a bit, looking a bit sheepish. "So...erm...what happened?" he asked, a bit embarrassed.

It was Fred's turn to look a bit guilty. "When I shoved you to the side, you may have, sort of, knocked your head a bit." The colour drained from George's face, but before he could say anything, Fred quickly rushed, "But you're absolutely fine, of course. Mr. Rikialria said so."

"Oh, good," George said, relieved, though just as astounded as Fred was. Where was the danger? The fatality? The you-have-six-months-to-live breaking news? Surely good things couldn't happen to them? But it appeared it had, for George wasn't in any more pain than he was before. Which, you know, wasn't _good,_ but it was a right side better than what they had been expecting.

"Though, you have to see Mr. Rikialria next week," Fred frowned with a trace of bitterness and fear in his voice. He did not want George to go through that again. And he didn't want _himself_ to have to go through that again, either.

There was a moment of silence. "Ah," George finally mused quietly, staring off into the distance.

Fred fidgeted helplessly beside him, and soon enough he couldn't take that far-away look anymore. "Say something," he pleaded.

George glanced at him a little surprised, and a little defeated. "What can I say?" he sighed. "There's nothing _to_ say."

"Say you won't die," Fred begged, suddenly at his wits end. _"Promise_ me you won't die. Promise me you'll wake up and everything will be fine, that you'll remember something new and we can go on our merry way...anything, just..." Fred trailed off, running a hand through his hair, looking quite distressed. Fred had known he had been rambling, but he didn't care. A haunted look appeared in his eyes that George had only seen the day at St. Mungo's.

The twin frowned deeply. He didn't like the way Fred sounded. He sounded like he expected everything he told him to say to be lies. "I made it through last time, didn't I?" George said bracingly. "I think my mind's proven that it's not going down without a fight."

Fred smiled softly. "Good enough for now, I suppose. Now, how about I go see about charming you out of the Hospital Wing?" Fred asked, brightening the mood.

George grinned. "Don't mess up!" he called after his brother's retreating back. Fred stuck his tongue out at him before he vanished into Madam Pomfry's office.

The ginger lying down strummed his fingers on the sheets, his mind pleasantly blank, though painful. He didn't want to think, so therefore he wasn't going to. Or, that's what he told himself.

He waited patiently for Fred's return, sitting up a little so he could get a better scope of the room. There truthfully wasn't any Slytherins around him, for which he wasn't sure to be happy or upset about. He wouldn't have wanted to be stuck with them all day, but he would have wanted them severely injured. _Ah well,_ he thought, _better luck next time. _

George's wrinkled in distaste at the room; he _really_ hated being here. And there wasn't anything anyone could do about it either. He just hated the purpose of it, the idea of having to stay here due to an injury.

"Alright, I got it!" came Fred's disgruntled and defensive voice as he hightailed it out of there and into view. George snickered. Fred walked over to him and sighed, "Well, it seems I have found the one person immune to the Weasley charm. But I won't give up!" he declared, a determined, yet amused look in his eye. "She will succumb to my awesomeness one day."

"So you're going to annoy her until she gives in just to shut you up?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Nice," George chuckled. "Should work fairly soon, too. You are an irksome git."

Fred feigned hurt. "Why, Georgie, I never!" he cried dramatically, making a show of almost fainting. "After all we've been through!"

"Which is how I'd know," George replied cheekily.

"Oh, budge up, you," Fred grumbled playfully, poking him in the shoulder. George did as he was told, and Fred slid in next to him, settling himself comfortably to George's side. "They should really make these beds bigger," Fred observed.

George inwardly smiled at the implication.

"They really should. You kick like a mule."

"What, is it pick on Fred day?" Fred asked, though he smirked in return. "And you're not exactly the most sound sleeper ever." His face turned serious, though. Fred couldn't count the number of times he'd awoken to find George's face contorted with pain and his arms flailing about. And each time he had been scared out of his mind.

George blushed, lowering himself back into a lying position and mumbling to himself. Fred patted his head like a cat, and made sure that his brother was comfortable before he said, "Get some sleep, Georgie. You'll feel better."

George felt like arguing that fact, but he didn't. If Fred believed it, and it made him more at ease, then who was George to say differently? "Mmmkay," he yawned, curling almost unconsciously into Fred's side, and closing his eyes. Fred smiled slightly as he moved to lie down too, careful not to jostle his brother too badly.

It wasn't until George was a breath away from sleep did Fred get a sudden urge to saying something. "You know I love you, right Georgie?" Fred asked softly, looking at his twin's relaxed form. It wasn't something they had often said, but as of late it seemed that things they rarely used to do were every day occurences.

Fred was left pondering about the sudden change in their characteristics, which was both drastic, yet not really. They still had their playful nature, and their love of pranking and teasing. They were just...much more expressive, you could say.

"Luvootoo," George suddenly slurred drowsily after a few moments, taking Fred by surprise. He hadn't really expected a response, he'd simply wanted to get that off his chest, but he grinned all the same.

* * *

><p>The next week past by almost in a blur. Fred now made someone, normally Lee, sit with George on the stands while he had practise. George had complained that he didn't need a babysitter, but after getting a scathing look from Fred, he decided to let it drop. He really should have known that Fred would take precautionary measures after last week's incident.<p>

And speaking of last week, they haven't seen hide nor tail of either Malfoy or his bodyguards. Which gave all three of them a great satisfaction. Lee, when he had heard, nearly went into a rampage. He swore he would've murdered them, had Madam Pomfry not stopped him. Fred, of course, was not so silently edging him on.

"You know, you really can go if you want," George told Lee one afternoon. It was the day before he would have to go in for his 'meeting' with Mr. Rikialria, and he was going to soak up as much sun as possible.

Lee gave him a disbelieving look. "Are you kidding me? And face the wrath of Fred?" He snorted. "I don't think so." But then he developed a teasing tone. "And anyways, you're not _too_ horrible to hang out with."

"Wow, thanks," George smirked, elbowing him in the side.

Both watched as Fred once more glanced his way while he took off after the Bludger. He was looking a lot thinner these days, as was George, but there was something haunted about his features. His eyes were dark and no longer lit up like they used to, and every few seconds Fred felt compelled to glance back at George, no matter where they were, as if to reassure himself that he was still there. It made George's stomach twist with guilt, because he knew he was the reason for it. "Ten galleons he'll look back at you after he hits the Bludger," Lee whispered, grinning, effectively interrupting the ginger's thoughts.

George chuckled, trying to put his guilty conscience aside. This was their favourite past time. Though they normally bet imaginary money. "No way. You and I both know that's definitely going to happen, and I don't have ten galleons to lose," he joked. And true to their word, Fred did glance back at them before he continued on his way.

Lee shook his head. "He is hopeless, honestly. Never seen this side of him."

"Is that bad?"

"No, just different," Lee shrugged. "Kind of funny, actually. But enough about Fred. I think the _real_ importance lies in what the bloody hell are we going to do about Umbridge?"

George had to agree with this. She had been absolutely dreadful the past week, and Fred had almost gotten them both detention thirty-six times because Umbridge had said a snide comment to either him, Lee, or George. Mostly George. And George almost let him half of the time. "I say we tie her up and feed her to whatever the hell lies in that forest over there." He jerked his thumb in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

Lee raised an eyebrow. "Has no one told you not to go near it?"

"Erm...no?"

The boy with dreadlocks shook his head. "Well, this isn't exactly like me either, so it's strange for me to say it, but don't go near it, okay?"

"Why?" George asked, genuinely curious. If normally Lee would have told him to go, why couldn't he now?

"It's called the Forbidden Forest for a reason. Though, we kind of went in it a lot. But since you don't know much magic, and you keep _nearly_ dying..." Lee trailed off, giving him a look.

George grimaced. Yeah. He would be a danger magnet in there. And Fred would kill him. But it _did_ look kind of interesting...

"Don't even think about it," Lee warned, seeing the familiar Weasley glimmer in his eyes. He knew how dangerous that glimmer was, as it often made them act impulsively. Half the time it was hilarious, but sometimes it got them into sticky situations. Both failed to see that practise had ended, and Fred was coming up behind them.

"Hmm?" George said distractedly. His mind was busily conjuring up ways he could get into that forest. He didn't know why, but he _needed_ to see what was in there.

Lee grabbed on to his shoulders and shook him so hard that George's neck snapped back, effectively forcing him into the present with a yelp. "George, listen to -"

But unfortunately, a certain ginger was within view. "Lee!" Fred roared, fire in his eyes.

Lee jumped back away from George like he had been burned, doing a perfect impression of a goldfish. He would never admit this, but when Fred was in mother-hen mode over George, he was downright terrifying. George rubbed the back of his neck with a disgruntled expression on his face. "H-Hey Fred, how was practise?" Lee asked nervously.

Fred narrowed his eyes, preparing for his explosion.

"Wait, er, Fred," George said quickly. "It's okay."

His twin continued to growl low, his eyes trained on Lee like he was an attack dog. The corner of George's mouth twitched and he struggled not to be amused. "Really, Fred, it's fine."

Fred turned around to look at him worriedly. "Are you okay?"

George nodded, though he was pretty sure he'd have a permanent kink in his neck for the rest of his life. "Same as always."

It calmed Fred to a certain extent. But not completely. "Care to explain?" he asked icily to Lee.

"Just leave it," George advised, a little panicked. Fred would _not_ be happy if he found out what he was planning on doing.

Honestly, it freaked Fred out more that George sounded like that, but he didn't want to make him upset. "Okay," he said soothingly, eyebrows knitting together in concern. "But we'll talk later," he said seriously to Lee, giving him a hard look.

And that's why George knew he had to get into the forest tonight.

* * *

><p>It had to be around two in the morning when George decided it was safe enough to leave. He had cast a silencing charm around his bed, curtesy of Harry and his teachings, and set his alarm for the time. George knew that if he didn't actually fall asleep at first, Fred would be up all night watching him until he did. He felt a bit guilty for sneaking out, especially knowing how mind bonglingly afraid for him Fred was. Which is why he would never, <em>ever<em> let Fred know what he did.

George reckoned he knew enough magic to get himself out of a bad situation should it occur, but there was a growing seed of apprehension brewing inside of him. But he knew he had to do it, because Lee would definitely tell him tomorrow, since it was apparent that it hadn't been mentioned yet, and he'd never get another chance. So, biting back his fear and instinct, he slowly slinked out of his bed. He was extra cautious as he tiptoed very slowly to the dormitory's door, eyes on Fred's sprawled form the entire time.

He started down the stairs, feeling a thrill of adrenaline course through him. This would be the first time he ventured on his own into the castle since the first night, and the first time on the grounds on his own. It was really rather exci-

His foot caught on something hard, and he cried out in surprise as he tumbled to the floor, luck only stopping him from smashing his face into the floor. Unfortunately, it didn't work for the rest of his body. He landed with a loud thump as whatever, or _who_ever he had just tripped over grunted as it fell to the ground as well.

George moaned, but froze as he realised that it was indeed a person who he had fallen over. _"Lee?"_

Lee rose, cringing a little as he gave George a triumphant but exasperated look. "Really, George? Did you honestly think I'd let you go?"

Movement sounded above them, and George swore under his breath. "Come with me then," George offered hurriedly, glancing towards the stairs every half a second. "Just don't let -"

But quickened footsteps sounded upstairs, and George knew instantly that they were Fred's. _Dammit!_ Before he could wait for his brother to appear, he tore towards the Common Room door, but Lee tackled him to the ground.

"Why - are - you - so - determined," Lee panted furiously as he wrestled George away from the door. "Do you have...a _death_ wish?"

"Lemme...go...Lee!" George whined angrily, breathing a little heavier as well. He was really putting up a tremendous fight if he did say so himself. "I just want...to see..."

"What the _bloody hell_ is going on?"

Lee was on top of George, holding the ginger in a headlock while George had his right foot on Lee's chest in an attempt to push him off. His hands were gripping Lee's arms that were around his neck and head. Both froze.

Fred looked like he was holding himself back, considering that it was Lee, but his eyes had reduced themselves to narrow, firey bands of gold. His fists curled, and he was unsure of whether to hex Lee into oblivion or try to find out what the heck happened. But considering that Lee didn't appear to have his wand, which was odd, he descided to go with the latter. Lee scrambled off of George, who relaxed on the ground and groaned in disappointment, anger, and pain.

His restraint diminished even further, and Lee could see that. "Let me explain," Lee said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Did he hurt you?" Fred growled, directing the question to George but glaring at Lee.

George decided that as annoyed as he was with Lee at the moment, he really didn't want him to get killed by Fred. "No, I'm fine," he replied as calmly as he could, standing up without showing that his head was pounding extremely painfully. It worked up until the point where he lost balance and staggered, nearly toppling over again, but Fred caught him.

"What's wrong?" Fred asked urgently, fear lacing his tone.

"Nothing...it's just...head," George murmured, letting Fred support his weight for a few moments until he could find his footing.

"Let's go to Madam Pomfry," Fred said worriedly, completely forgetting that Lee was in the room.

"No, I'm fine," George replied, taking a deep breath. "Just go back to bed, I'll be up in a bit -"

"You mean after you go into the Forest?" Lee said sternly, suddenly gaining his voice again.

"What?" Fred said sharply, whipping his head back to Lee. "What about the Forest?"

George glared at Lee. He really should have known that this wasn't going to work. "I just wanted to have a look," he said hotly. "I can't remember ever going in there, and Lee wasn't letting me go."

"Are you mad?" Fred demanded. "There are things in that Forest that will happily kill you!"

"Fred, you can't keep me in a bubble for the rest of my life."

"I haven't been!" he cried. "It's not my fault that you seem to get in to an extraordinary amount of accidents!"

"Oh, so it's mine?" George raised an eyebrow angrily.

"That's not what I'm saying!" Fred growled in frustration.

"Really? 'Cause it sounds that way to me!" George retorted, though there was evident hurt laced in his tone. "Look, you're stressing out way more than you need to," he said softly. "I mean, look at yourself." He gestured towards Fred's ragged features. "You barely eat, sleep, or socialise anymore. All you do is worry and it's my fault. It's been my fault from the beginning, and I'm sorry." George he started towards the Common room door, no longer intent on going to the Forest. He just wanted somewhere to be alone.

But Fred was _not_ having that. "Don't you dare walk out that door," he snarled. When George didn't turn around, Fred shouted, _"Dammit, George!" _Both Lee and George winced at his tone. "How long is it going to take for it to sink into that thick skull of yours? Do you honestly think that I did any of those things out of guilt or duty? Do you _honestly_ think that maybe it's because, God forbid, I _care_ about you? I need you, George, alright? Why do you always think otherwise?"

"Fred..." George's voice cracked. Fred had never seen, or heard, George so sad before, and it hurt. _He's wrong,_ George thought sorrowfully. _I'm the one who needs him, not the other way around._

Lee had no idea what to do. He was feeling very awkward, admittedly, but he was also exasperated with George. He didn't know what the bloody hell was going through his head, but whatever it was was convincing him of lies. "Okay, let's all take a step back here," Lee said loudly, trying to diffuse the tension.

Fred was staring at George like he had never seen him clearly before. Why was George keeping so many things from him? They were twin's for Pete's sake, they _never_ kept secrets! And why did they always come out at times like these, leaving Fred at a loss of how to comfort him? But most of all, why in Merlin's scruffy, dingy beard, did George have all these thoughts that Fred would be better off without him?

"George, step away from the door," Lee ordered, directing him towards a chair. "Fred, you sit too." The two did as they were told, and sat across from each other. Though while George refused to look anyone in the eye, feeling both embarrassed and melancholy, Fred didn't look anywhere else but at George. "No one is going to bed or anywhere else for that matter until we sort this out," Lee said in a commanding and firm voice. Both Fred and Lee would have found his tone highly amusing had it been a different situation.

However, seeing that no one seemed to be talking anytime soon, Lee started, completely annoyed. "Okay, look. I know things have changed a lot, but the worst is the way you two think. George, you are _not_ a burden to Fred for God's sake. So stop feeling so damn guilty all the time." The two twins looked stunned. "Fred, you have to let the man do _something_ for once! You _have_ been forcing him into a bubble, and the more that happens the more likely he's going to try and do something stupid, so stop being a git and be like the Fred you used to be, or so help me I will make sure Peeves pelts you with dungbombs everyday for the rest of the year!"

Fred and George were shocked to say the least. "He's right," Fred finally said after several long minutes. George finally looked up at him.

"No, don't give me that look," Fred warned, seeing the guilt and knowing _exactly_ what he was going to say. "I'm not beyond hexing you into next week."

George couldn't help himself; he burst out laughing. Fred joined in, and suddenly the two found that they couldn't stop. They weren't even sure why they were laughing in the first place, but they soon had tears streaming down their cheeks as they howled, rolling out of their seats to land on the floor and clutch their sides.

Lee wasn't sure they were in their right mind, but he sure as hell prefered these laughing twins to the somber ones he'd gotten used to. "So, I'm just going to take a wild guess here and say that next week we'll _all_ go into the Forest so George doesn't get himself bloody killed, right?"

"Yup!" the gingers chorused, beaming widely.

The Kings were back.

For now.

* * *

><p>Click the buuutttttooooonnnn :D haha<p> 


	18. Timshel

**Author's Note: **Happy Halloween everyone! :D I hope you all like this chapter! And thank you so much to **Aris1013**,****chocolateMnMs****,** **HannahSchultz****,****Moonlight900****,** **93 Diagon Alley****,** **hachoo****,** **Dimcairien****, and** **tiara**** for reviewing! They make my day :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter, nor the Weasley twins. Sigh.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Timshel**

_'You are not alone in this,  
>And you are not alone in this.<br>As brothers we will stand,  
>And we'll hold your hand.<br>Hold your hand.'  
><em>**~ 'Timshel,' Mumford & Sons**

"All I'm saying is that we could easily just run away."

"Okay, isn't it my job to suggest that?"

"I wanted to switch it up a bit."

"George, don't make me be the responsible one here. You know I'm pants at that."

George pouted. "Come on," he whined. "Why do we have to go to Potions today? Don't we deserve some time off? I mean, we're going to see Mr. Rikialria right afterwards! Stupid git probably planned it," he grumbled.

Fred grinned, amused. As soon as they had woken up today, he felt like a huge weight he'd never realised was there got lifted off his chest, and he knew George felt the same. They were bubbly and joking, and everyone watched in amazement as they proceeded to play the 'Who's Who?' game with nearly every teacher they had. It was their favourite prank, as George recently discovered.

Fred wasn't sure what changed. He was still worried about George as much as he was before, he just...didn't think about it. Instead, the two of them enjoyed life like they were wont to do before any of this had ever happened. It was really rather liberating.

"Oh, who am I kidding?" Fred eventually said, a mischievous grin flitting across his face. "If we're lucky we can go see the Giant Squid in the lake."

George's face lit up like fireworks. "There's a giant squid in that lake?" he said in awe.

The twin chuckled. "You know, when you get your memory back, you're going to look back on this and smack yourself for that."

But George simply waved his comment off with his hand, too eager to say a come back. "What are we waiting for, you git? Show me the squid!"

"Well, if you're going to talk to me like that," Fred huffed playfully, sticking out his chest in an over exaggerated way and slowly walking in the direction of Potions class.

"Oh, I'm _sorry!"_ George begged dramatically, kneeling down and clutching at Fred's robes. His grin revealed the true nature.

"Oh all _right,"_ Fred replied quite pompously in what was a perfect imitation of Percy, unbeknownst to George. "If I must."

"Oi, I could always find Lee," George threatened, "and make you go to Potions class all by yourself."

Fred's eyes widened. "That's low, mate," Fred remarked as they saunteered off towards the exit of the castle. "Not that, you know, I wouldn't absolutely _love_ to see Snape on this fine day," he continued dryly.

George sniggered. "Shame. I'm sure he'll miss us."

The two walked serenely through the grounds, not in any particular hurry as they tried to make the moments last for as long as possible. It had been a _long_ time since they'd ever felt peaceful, and they were going to try and soak it up as much as possible.

They made their way to the Black Lake, the surface as still as glass. You could not imagine a great big squid lurking in its depths, yet Fred knew it was there, biding its time below until it had a reason to come up.

George, however, didn't seem so sure. He smacked Fred on the arm. "Git," he pouted. "There really isn't a squid in the lake, is there?"

Fred couldn't help but grin at the pure disappointment on his twin's face. _"Actually,_ there really is. And he likes to be tickled."

The ginger stared at him for a few seconds, not sure whether to give in to laughter or not. "Yeah, okay, you're yanking my wand."

"Not this time, dear brother of mine," Fred replied lightly. "We just have to wait a bit, but he normally comes up at around this time."

George gave him a skeptical look, but shrugged and moved to settle himself against the large oak tree a few feet away. Fred followed, while the brushed lazily through their fiery hair. The sun was out, shining sunnily, and though it was still cold, there was no snow beneath the tree. They leaned against the rather large trunk as well as each other as they breathed in the fresh air. Fred tilted his head to his left to look at his brother, raising an appraising eyebrow. "You know, we should have stopped to get you a coat."

Goosebumps had erupted all over George's skin, but George didn't mind; he found he liked the cold. Looking over at Fred, George smirked at his twin's own goosebumps. "Uh-huh, are you sure it's for me that you want a jacket?"

Fred rolled his eyes, but refrained from comment as the two stayed where they were, sharing body warmth as well as relishing in the crisp wind. Though they didn't voice anything, they both knew they were thinking the same thing. It felt as though they were on the downward climb of their rollercoaster of a year. That didn't mean that everything would be all right and peachy from now on. More so that the worst was over, something they both were relieved about.

But Fred was also thinking of something else too. He knew that pretty soon George would be forced to endure the pain of the next meeting, there was no getting around that. But Fred just couldn't simply wait for hours to see George again. In short, he wanted to be in there with him. He could help. Fred could try and comfort his twin while he was put through whatever he was put through. Plus, there _was_ a bit of curiosity as to how the whole proceeding went down. "Hey, George?"

"Mmm?" George hummed lethargically in response to Fred's question.

_No use beating around the bush. _"I'm going to come in with you for the meeting."

All sluggishness seemed to evaporate instantly from George's body as he tensed and said firmly, "No."

Fully anticipating this response, Fred ploughed onward. "Georgie, you're not going to make me wait outside this time. Not considering what almost happened." It was an unspoken rule between them that they would never refer to 'what almost happened' as 'George almost dying.' And if anyone said it while Fred was around, he'd punch them.

But George was unfazed. "Oh yes I am," he replied, scooching up a bit so he could turn and face his brother straight on.

"No, you're not," Fred countered, equally as sternly. "I'm not asking for your permission."

"Then what do you want from me?" George said, half angrily, half begging. Fred tried not to flinch at the tone. "You want me to say it's alright for you to _watch_ me be in pain? Merlin, Fred, having you wait outside of that is kinder."

"I'll be driven _mad_ if I have to wait again, Georgie," Fred tried to reason. "And besides, you said yourself that thinking of me was what kept you from...what almost happened...and if I'm there in real life, maybe it'll be easier!" Ah. _There_ was the infamous Fred logic that no one quite knew how to counter.

"But...I...that's not the point!" George struggled, getting angrier at the fact that Fred made even the least bit of sense. "I see that look in your eyes, Fred!" At his brother's confused stare, George continued on in a quieter voice. "They have this haunted look about them ever since I...what almost happened...and I'm not about to make that worse. And this _will_ Fred. I guarantee it."

A bit taken aback by the sudden revelation, Fred replied as gently as he could, "George, whether I'm present in the room with you or not will not change anything. Look, I'm going to worry when these things come around. It's just the way it is. But I'd be more comfortable being with you while it's happening."

George shook his head vigorously. He did _not_ get it! "Fred, why can't you understand this? Yeah, I know it's won't be exactly fun waiting somewhere else, but it'll be better than watching me screaming my bloody head off for hours on end!"

Fred's face went white at the thought. Hearing George put it like that sent a pain through his heart at how much agony his twin would be in. And that only made him want to be there to comfort him more. "I'm going in with you," he said in an unyielding voice. "Whether you like it or not. We're doing this together, just like everything else."

The ginger sighed and moved back to his place against the tree. "Don't say I didn't warn you," George replied regrettably. He picked at his sleeve absent-mindly, a frown on his lips. Why did Fred insist on making this so difficult on himself?

"Thanks," Fred said sincerely. A ripple in the water caught Fred's attention, however, and he exclaimed happily, "Look! The squid!"

George would've been amused at Fred's reaction had he not have been having the same exact one. Scrambling to his feet, he ran to the water like an over excited five year old, ignoring Fred's shouts of laughter. He threw himself to the ground, completely unafraid, as he watched in wonder as a rather large tentacle peeked out from the water.

"I told you I wasn't lying!" Fred yelled mock angrily, beaming at the awestruck look on his twin's face as he came to kneel right beside him. The tentacle seemed to be like the lookout telescope on a submarine, cruising towards them with purpose. And as soon as it got close enough to them, Fred reached out to tickle the tip of it. The whole tentacle shuddered as if laughing, before the entire body popped out with a great torrent of waves and splashes, successfully drenching the pair of them.

George barely noticed, however, as he couldn't keep his wide eyes off the creature staring at them with its rather humungous eye. Fred sniggered at George; he looked like he was told that Christmas had come early. He looked back at Fred as if to confirm what he was actually seeing, and at Fred's rather amused nod, he turned his attention back to the squid.

All six tentacles sprung out of the water and headed towards the gingers now as the head of it bobbed merrily with the waves. They all surrounded them, nuzzling them like an affectionate dog, or gently poking them for more tickles. George couldn't stop the giggles from emitting from his throat, not caring that they weren't manly at all as he reached forward to stroke the tentacle nearest him.

Fred couldn't help but burst out laughing at the delighted look on his George's face, reminding him so much of the little four year old version of George when they were both so fascinated with everything. It was a look he didn't see often anymore, as they grew up, but he couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for his brother just then. And it was with a lightened heart that he joined in playing with the easily pleased squid.

The two walked back towards the castle a little while later, waving farewell to the squid, and fancied they saw it wave back. But each step had more and more worry seep in to George's mind. He wasn't at all worried about his meeting anymore; he could handle it. It was Fred he was concerned about. _Why did I agree to this?_ he scolded himself. No way was Fred going to back down now, but he couldn't just let Fred _watch._ Was he _mad?_

"Erm...Fred..." George said hesitantly, chancing a glance at his twin.

Fred seemed to have been too wrapped up in pleasant thoughts, because he hummed happily out a, "Hmm?"

George bit his lip. _Get it over with!_ "Fred...Idon'tthinkyoushouldcomeinwithme," he rushed out, not stopping to breathe.

A confused and amused look appeared on his brother's face. "Sorry?"

He took a deep breath. "I don't think you should come in with me," he said clearly.

But Fred only rolled his eyes. "Really, George, I thought we went over this."

"Yeah, and you caught me at a very relaxed time," George countered, eyes full of worry. "Don't you realise what you're pushing yourself towards?"

"Please, don't flatter yourself," Fred joked, waving his hand mockingly as if to say that George should get over himself. But that apparently was not the right time for that.

"Fred!" George growled furiously, clenching his fists in frustration. _"Listen to me, will you?"_ It was the tone more than anything that got Fred's attention. "I saw your face the day I woke up, alright? And you hadn't even been with me! There's a reason why Healers aren't supposed to know the patient beforehand, Fred!"

The ginger was utterly stunned. He had no idea that was even a rule. "What?"

"Do you _honestly_ think you'll be alright when just waiting for me while I was 'asleep' made you so afraid? Fred, don't make me do that to you again," George whispered, eyes downcast.

Little did George know that with every word he was steeling Fred's resolve. He would be with his brother, dammit, when something like this happened! They did everything together and he was not about to let this be the first exception! "Say whatever you like, Georgie, but that doesn't change a thing," Fred responded stubbornly. George groaned, but before he could get a word in edgewise, Fred interupted, "C'mon, if we don't hurry we'll be late for _our_ appointment." So it was with a heavy sigh that George allowed himself to be pulled forward by a very determined Fred.

They made it to the Hospital Wing right on time to find Mr. Rikialria, and a few Healers they didn't know, waiting for them, and the room eerily empty. Positive that the Hospital Wing had never seen an empty day during the school year, George posed the question, "Er...where is everyone?"

"I believe Madam Pomfry has relocated them," the Healer smiled, an odd twinkle in his eyes that was strongly reminiscent to Dumbledore's.

"Why?" George asked, baffled. "They didn't have to leave just for me, did they?"

Madam Pomfry came bustling out of her office then, saying, "Oh nonsense, Mr. Weasley, a couple of broke bones is nothing. You have a special case."

"But -" he tried to say, but got elbowed by Fred in a not so subtle way of telling him to shut up.

"You may come back in a few hours, Mr. Weasley," Mr. Rikialria said calmly to Fred.

_Ha!_ George smirked at him, but Fred ignored it.

"Actually, I was thinking of staying," Fred said firmly, his eyes daring Mr. Rikialria to object.

"I assure you, Mr. Weasley, that we'll take good care of him."

Fred fought the strong urge to snort at this. He still wasn't exactly thrilled with the Healer yet. "I'm sure you will," he said with more than a hint of sarcasm lacing his tone. "I still want to be here."

"Mr. Weasley, I'm not sure you realise -"

"I understand completely, thank you," Fred cut him short. "George hear made sure of that."

A quick glance at Fred's twin told him that this hadn't exacty been George's idea. "Mr. Weasley, I don't think -"

"Just try to get rid of me," Fred snarled, crossing his arms. George sighed, slumping a little in defeat.

"I will if I have to, Mr. Weasley," Mr. Rikialria said firmly.

Fred, not fully expecting resistance, whipped out his wand on impulse.

George panicked. "Wait! Can't we just, erm, figure this out _without," _he stressed the word heavily, "force?"

"Sure," Fred shurgged. "Let me stay and there'll be no problem."

Mr. Rikialria exchanged a look with George before he gave in. "Alright, but any signs that you are unable to deal with this, you _will_ be carted out of here, whether that means turning you into a teapot or not."

Fred resisted the urge once more to snort and said, "Fine," as he pocketed his wand. George grimaced the whole time. Fantastic.

Not looking pleased himself, Mr. Rikialria said to George as he pointed towards an empty bed, "Please have a seat."

They two of them walked forward, the numbness of the situation flying away from George with each step. He started to shake as he reached the bed, and Fred's eyebrows furrowed in worry. "I'm here, Georgie, you're okay," he murmured under his breath, squeezing George's hand reassuringly.

George could only grimace back as he trembled, and Fred felt such a surge of protectiveness that he nearly growled at Mr. Rikialria as he came forward. All he wanted to do was grab his twin and run, run far away from the pain he was sure to feel, from the overshadowing of death. "Wait," Fred said suddenly, looking at Mr. Rikialria pleadingly. "Can't you give him something? So it won't hurt so much?"

Mr. Rikialria smiled sadly. "I wish we had something that would work in these circumstances, but we don't."

Fred looked helplessly at George as he grasped his hand more tightly, moving his thumb in smoothing circles across the back of his hand. George looked absolutely terrified. "You'll be okay, I promise Georgiekins," Fred whispered, not sure whether he was trying to convince George or himself. "It'll be over soon, and then we'll be alright again. We can go see the squid again, okay?"

George nodded, but he looked up at Mr. Rikialria fearfully. Mr. Rikialria looked apologetic as he stepped forward, the other Healers in the room ushering forward a chair for him. Fred raised an eyebrow, but refrained from comment. "Ready?" he asked George quietly.

George, personally, didn't think he'd ever be ready, but he gulped and nodded wordlessly, trying to stop his heart from thumping through his chest. He tried to take comfort in the best way he could, knowing that Fred was right by his side, before he submitted himself to the pain.

* * *

><p>Review please :)<p> 


	19. Move Along

**Author's Note: **Ahh! I'm back! :D I hope you all like this chapter! A lot of you really liked the Giant Squid thing so thank you very much for telling me that! :D It makes me extremely happy :D haha but a huge thank you to **BlueWolf65**,****SolelyReader****,** **cutietrp****,** **DisgracedxMia****,** **hachoo****,** **chocolateMnMs****,** **93 Diagon Alley****, and** **Aris1013 ****for all your lovely reviews! They mean a lot :)

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Move Along**

_'When all you got to keep is strong,_  
><em>Move along, move along like I know you do.<em>  
><em>And even when your hope is gone,<em>  
><em>Move along, move along just to make it through,<em>  
><em>Move along.'<em>  
><strong>~ 'Move Along,' The All-American Rejects<strong>

Fred felt a twinge of torment going through his heart as he saw George close his eyes tightly, face white, as Mr. Rikialria put his wand over him and whispered unknown words. All at once Fred saw his face contort in agony, but his lips were pressed firmly together, and he got the feeling that it was purely for his benefit. George collapsed into the pillow, and his body started to jerk, but still, he made no sound.

And Fred knew instantly that George had been right all along.

He could not just stand here, watching his twin brother go through that kind of pain. He wanted to scream at someone, at anyone to make it stop, to give him a break...but he knew as he turned his horrified gaze to Mr. Rikialria that he would not have heard him if he tried. He looked like he was in pain himself, lost in his own world, his eyes tightly shut.

"Georgie, you're okay," Fred nearly sobbed, leaning forward to stroke his hair as best he could as he twitched. He let out a whimper of pain, and Fred felt his heart break even more. "No, George, you'll be fine," he pleaded. "I know it hurts now, but it'll be all okay, you'll be alright."

"Mr. Weasley, perhaps you should leave," a Healer said softly to him, make Fred jump. "This'll be going on for a few hours."

But before Fred could respond, all hell broke lose.

It seemed whatever strength George had had to keep his mouth shut broke away and suddenly he was screaming bloody murder. And Fred couldn't stop the tears from flowing now. "You're alright!" he cried over the screams, his voice cracking with pain. "I'm right here, Georgie, I'm right here! Please, you'll be okay...you'll be okay..." He bowed his head into George's arm. The tears didn't even register in his mind as strange, even though he had never been one for crying. But honestly, who couldn't at a time like this?

The scream pounded into Fred's ears, and he knew that that sound would haunt him for the rest of his life. It curled in his insides, embedding it into his skull as he watched with absolute and incomprehensible terror and anguish.

"Mr. Weasley, I think you need to leave right now!" the Healer shouted, gripping Fred's upper arm.

"No!" Fred shrieked, his eyes boring into George's tortured face. "No, he needs me!"

Tears had started to run down George's face as he screeched, and Fred would've done anything at that moment to be able to take the pain away. He clutched George's writhing body as close as he could to him and hugged him tightly, burying his face into his hair. He held him for what felt like years, feeling every minute pass, and soon he lost track. Fred didn't give a damn that the Healers were watching him, unsure of whether to drag him forcibly away or not. All he wanted was to comfort George as best he could, even if that was all he could do.

But suddenly, the screaming stopped, and George fell limply into Fred's arms, and if it weren't for the ragged breathing, Fred would've panicked that he'd died. "What's happening now?" Fred asked, feeling emotionally drained.

"It's part of the procedure," one of the Healers said. "He goes unconscious for a period of the time."

Fred gave a sigh of relief that nearly covered his choke of misery. How George could do this willingly all over again, he had no idea. How long had it been? An hour? Two? Three? He had no idea, all he knew was that he was going to wish with all his might that the 'unconscious' stage lasted as long as possible.

* * *

><p>George had tried so hard not to make a sound as the slowly-becoming-familiar pain raged through his body. There had only been a faint awareness in the back of his mind that told him that Fred was present as the Healer worked his magic to keep his decibels in check. But as time slowly ticked onward, he felt his willpower slip away, and the reason as to why he wasn't 'unleashing the beast' receded until he no longer knew the answer. So he opened his mouth, and screamed.<p>

Only, the knowledge that he was doing so became unknown to him as well after a little while, as memories he never knew he had started their quest back to him.

""""""""

"FRED! GEORGE!" roared an irate Molly Weasley.

We looked up innocently with our eight year old faces as our mother came bursting into our bedroom. We were sitting crossed-legged on the floor, exploding snaps stratigically placed before us. "Yes?" Fred said, complete with angelic confusion as to why our mother was upset.

I copied my twin's look, and stared up at her with wide, blue eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh you bet something's wrong!" she cried, glaring at us furiously, hands on her hips. A dish towel that was stained neon green was held in her right hand. "Why on earth you two want to torture your brother is beyond me!"

"Torture?" we both said simultaneously. "We don't want to torture anyone," Fred replied cheerfully.

"What happened?" I continued, unable to stop the grin from forming on my face.

"You know Percy is starting Hogwarts tomorrow, and you two _dyed_ his hair! With Muggle hair dye at that!"

"We didn't do anything," I answered, my beam still in place. "We were just sitting here, playing exploding snaps."

"Oh really?" Mrs. Weasley responded dangerously. "Then why hasn't it been opened?"

We looked down and I mentally smacked myself. I chanced a glance towards Fred, and I knew he was doing the same. "That's because we just finished," I improvised.

"Yeah," Fred added. "We were just cleaning up when you came in." But as soon as those words came out of his mouth, I knew we had just dug our grave. We _never_ cleaned up after ourselves.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes flashed. She walked over and yanked me up by the scruff of my neck. "Come with me, young man," she growled.

"Hey!" I cried.

"Wait, where're you taking George?" Fred asked fearfully, jumping up too.

She started to push me towards the door. "I think you two need to spend some time apart to think about what you've just done to your brother," she snapped.

"No, Mum," I stammered, turning around to lock eyes with Fred. And I saw the same horror reflected in my brother's eyes as I knew were in mine. _Time...apart?_ "You can't separate us."

"Oh? And why not?"

"Because!" Fred burst out, anger now flickering in his eyes. "We're never apart!"

"Well I think you two need to start, then," she snarled, pulling me with her.

"George!" Fred cried as the door snapped shut. Our Mum quickly waved her wand, and I heard the lock click shut. Fred's fists immediately began to pound on the door, and I felt a terror unlike I had ever felt before rise up inside me.

Mum shoved me into a room down the hallway and locked it, still clearly enraged. And, copying my twin, I banged on the wood, rattled the doorknob, and called to Fred, expecting him to come through the door at any moment. My eyes started to sting as my desperation grew fiercer. I hurt all over, and I knew that only Fred could make it go away. Fred always knew what to do. "Freddie!" I yelled, not caring that my voice hitched at the end. "Freddie, please come find me! Freddie!" But Fred did not appear to be finding me anytime soon.

I felt the tears start to fall past my lower lids and trek down my cheeks. "Fred!"

"George?" came a muffled, surprised voice.

"Charlie!" I howled, banging on the door. A little seed of hope was rekindled at my older brother's voice. He had always been our favourite.

"Charlie?" came another, distant but somehow louder voice, sounding like Fred.

"What is going on?" Charlie demanded.

"Let us out, please," I begged. "Mum separated us!"

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Charlie said, "Okay, I'll just -"

"Get Fred first!" I ordered, sounding a little hysterical. I had to know that Fred was alright.

"George, I'm right here -"

"No! Go get Fred first! Make sure he's okay!"

Charlie sighed a little before he responded in a soothing voice, "Alright, I'm going to go get Fred first."

I sighed with relief as Charlie's footsteps sounded away from me. Fred would be okay, because Charlie would make sure Fred was okay. But before I could think another thought, my door flew open and a body launched itself on top of me, knocking us both to the floor, and I knew instantly that it was Fred.

Fred nearly flattened me, but I didn't really care as we clutched on to each other tightly. The pain was slowly starting to ebb away as I knew it would with Fred back. "Don't...don't leave..." I heard Fred sob, and I realised with shock that Fred appeared to have been crying too. Which was strange, because out of the two of us, I was regrettably more likely to cry. I could only nod in response, and feel Fred tighten his grip on me.

We barely even noticed that Charlie was still in the room until a little later. "Thank you Charlie," we ended up chorusing together, our voices filled with deep gratitude. We still held on to each other, not ready to be physically apart just yet. I didn't think we could ever tell Charlie how thankful we were for bringing us back together again. It was like saving a life; there was no words to show how strong of a 'thank you' you meant.

"Now, I'm not saying what you did was right," Charlie admonished gently. We looked down at our feet, feeling a little ashamed because Charlie didn't seem too impressed by our actions. "But I think being separated from each other was punishment enough. Come on, you two can hide out in my room."

Utterly stunned for all of a second, Fred and I beamed at each other as we awkwardly tried to follow Charlie with our arms still around each other. Charlie looked like he was fighting what Fred named, 'Mum Awws.' Our Mum, whenever she thought something was 'cute,' would let out a long stream of, 'Awwwwww!' in a very high-pitched voice. We found it highly embarrassing whenever it was directed our way, so we were glad that Charlie refrained from doing so.

"But won't Mum find out that we're not there when she comes to get us?" I asked fearfully, the thought suddenly striking me.

"Ah, but that's what warnings are for," Charlie winked. "If Mum comes towards the stairs with the intention of seeing either you two or me, we'll know."

I was absolutely awestruck, and I knew that as Fred and I grinned at each other, that he was in wonder himself. "You're the best, Charlie!" we declared, hobbling over to include our older brother in our group hug.

Charlie smiled softly and leaned down to hug us, strokng our hair gently as he proceeded to tell us one of his famous dragon tales.

""""""""

Fred winced as he watched George seize up in the bed again. His unconscious state had lasted nearly as long as his screaming match, only it seemed that round two was about to begin. Fred softly ran his fingers through his twin's tensed form, wishing as hard as he could that he could somehow make this easier for him. He leaned down to press his lips to the top of George's head, closing his eyes briefly as he leaned into his ginger hair before sitting back up. "You're okay, Georgiekins," he whispered, not even noticing the Healers anymore. "I promise you that you'll be alright. I'll show you the kitchens as soon as we can and I'll reintroduce you to your favourite dessert. You do remember strawberry ice cream, don't you? Because that's just a crime for you to not know your own favourite dessert."

But Fred could say no more as the whimpers started again, and he already felt his eyes prick. It unimpeachably killed him to know that George was going through this alone, no matter whether Fred was present or not. Sitting beside him or waiting outside of the room really made no difference; George still suffered all the same. Only this time, Fred suffered just as much in a different way.

_Please let this not last too long,_ Fred begged in his mind. _Please._

""""""""

"C'mon Georgie!" Fred whined from our bedroom door, looking quite excited. "You're taking too long! Bill and Charlie will have already left!"

I rolled my eyes in response, but tried to quicken my speed of getting dressed. I had no idea how Fred managed to litterally _throw_ clothes on himself and get ready in all of five seconds. In return, Fred couldn't understand how I _couldn't_ get dressed in such a short time span. I tried to explain to him once that everyone else on the planet needed more than half a second to put clothes on our bodies, but he just didn't get it.

Finally I thrust my left sock on my foot and took after an overly keen Fred. We flew down the stairs, and Fred nearly knocked our father over in his haste. "Fred!" he cried, a little angry as he caught himself.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George!" Fred declared, stopping for a second to give him an accusing look. Only I could see the mischievousness in it.

"Sorry George, but you really do need to watch -"

"I'm just yanking your wand," Fred grinned. "I really am Fred!" We both cackled as we took off running again, leaving our father in a state of confusion. Really, only on rare occassions were people able to tell the difference between us, and even then it was just on a whim. We were 'identical to the last freckle' after all. The only people who came close to telling the difference were Charlie and Mum, but that didn't mean that our Who's Who? game didn't work on them every single time.

"There you lot are!" Bill called, his broomstick in one hand, and mine in the other. Charlie stood beside him, holding Fred's broomstick and his own. A Quaffle and two pairs of bats lay by their feet. Since we wanted to start playing 'real' Quidditch, with real live deadly Bludgers and all, Bill and Charlie promised to start us off easy by throwing the Quaffle at us first. "We've been waiting ages."

"It was George's fault," Fred said, jerking his thumb in my direction.

"I agree, only I'm Fred," I countered.

"Oh, yeah," Fred grinned. We both sniggered at the lost expressions on our brother's faces. Really, we played this joke on every single family member at least ten times a day. It never got old.

"Well, which ever one of you is George," Bill ended up saying, looking quite amused, "I've got your broomstick."

Fred and I exchanged glances before I shrugged, stepping forward and taking it.

"Ha!" Bill beamed triumphantly. "I knew you were George all along."

"Who says I am? I could still be messing with you," I smirked. "Or maybe I'm not."

"Oh, whatever," Bill rolled his eyes. "For all tense and purposes, you're George today, whether you really are or not."

"Sounds fine to me," Fred sniggered, taking his broomstick from Charlie's hand. "I always liked being Fred."

We climbed on top, bats in hand, and shot up towards the air, relishing in the freedom flying brought. It was exhilarating. Even though we couldn't play 'real' Quidditch, I was absolutely content with simply being up in the air. I often thought that if I could live on my broom, I would.

"Okay, Fred, are you ready?" I heard Bill yell, and I turned around to watch Fred's performance, fully intent on laughing very loudly should he mess up.

Bill threw the Quaffle as hard as he could at Fred, who seemed to freeze up for a second, before he swung his bat with all his might. It shot off in the other direction, and Charlie sped off to catch it. Fred whipped his head to beam widely at me, almost as if he wanted to see if I was proud of him. I grinned, holding both my thumbs briefly upward before shouting, "Brilliant!"

Fred flew up beside me, his face bright with excitement, and I took it as my turn to have a go. I went down to where Fred had been, and I could feel the adrenaline build up inside of me. It was Charlie's turn as well to throw the Quaffle my way, while Bill would be in charge of chasing after it.

"Ready?" Charlie called, and I nodded.

Something caught my eye, however, just as I knew Charlie threw the Quaffle. I honestly didn't even know what it was. A bird? A flutterng petal, perhaps? But before my eyes could even begin to distinguish what exactly it was, I heard a, "George!" from Fred.

I glanced away and back to the very quickly approaching Quaffle. But somehow, my brain seemed to work in overdrive, perceiving everything at lightning speed. The Quaffle was about three seconds from smashing into my face, and my body seemed to act of its own accord. I rolled out of the way, but as I hadn't really expected to react this way, I couldn't get a grip in time. I plummeted to the ground, which, truthfully, wasn't _too_ too far away, but it seemed that I was high enough to land sickeningly on my arm and hear a horrifying crack.

_"George!"_ I heard everyone cry, and before I could really even process what was happening, people were all around me. And then I felt it.

I groaned, my face screwed up in pain as I tried not to move. "George! George, are you okay?" I heard Fred's scared voice in my ear.

"Oh, God, George, I'm sorry!" Charlie cried.

"I think his arm is broken," Bill said as calmly as he could, crouching down next to me so I could see him. "You're going to have to get up, okay George?" Bill whispered apologetically to me, gripping my shoulder and other arm so as to help me.

I whimpered a bit as I was forced to get up, my eyes stinging at the pain. I glanced at Fred, and he looked like he quite wanted to snap Bill's arm off for making me move. But when we locked eyes, his face morphed into a look of fear, worry, and torment. The world spun a little as I wobbled on over to the Burrow, supported by Bill and Fred, who glued himself to me, which I was grateful for. For reasons I didn't really understand, I felt better just because my twin was right beside me. Always have, and probably always will.

"Hey boys, why are you back s-" our Mum started to say, before her eyes settled on my wince. "George! What happened?" She instantly rushed towards me, bending down to look at my arm.

Charlie shuffled guiltily beside me, but before he could say anything, I murmured, "I fell off my broom." It would do no one any good if I blamed Charlie, and besides, it had been my fault; I didn't pay attention.

"Oh George," she sighed. "Come inside, I'll mend it."

Bill let go of my arm, but Fred only gripped me harder, giving everyone including me a steely look that clearly said he was not going to let go any time soon. So the pair of us hobbled into the kitchen, our older brothers trailing behind.

Our Mum, having had to mend many broken bones in her time, healed it instantly, though she advised I relax for the rest of the day because although it was healed, it was very sore. I went up to my room, and Fred trailed wordlessly behind me. That is, until I settled myself on my bed.

"George?" Fred said quietly, looking at me worriedly.

I glanced over at Fred, my eyebrows raised. Despite the little 'incident' when we were eight, we had never been very touchy-feely, so the soft tone surprised me. "I'm alright, Fred," I said, smirking a bit. "S'not the first time I've broken a bone before."

"Really?" Fred said sarcastically. But then he sombered up. "You gave me a heart attack there, mate. You've never fallen from your broom before."

I grimaced. "I know. It was really stupid. I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and then wham, I nearly get hit by a Quaffle." I looked at Fred again. "I'm sorry," I stated sincerely. I hadn't meant to scare him.

"Just don't do it again," Fred grinned good-naturedly.

I smiled.

""""""""

"I swear, I saw something down there," Fred said excitedly, peering into the lake. I rolled my eyes. Fred had had wild ideas in his time, to the banshee in the backyard or the dragon eggs in the tree, so I should've assumed that he'd come up with one now that we were at Hogwarts.

"Mhmm," I hummed distractedly, merely humouring my twin with coming down here with him to investigate. I did like the grounds, after all. And a little fresh air never hurt anyone.

Fred didn't seem put out by my lack of enthusiasm, and instead started splashing the water as if hoping to get the 'Giant Squid' as he so claimed was in there's attention.

After a few minutes, I figured it was time to bring my brother to his senses. "Fred, there's nothi -" But I spoke too soon.

A large tentacle, easily as thick as both me and Fred put together, suddenly shot out of the water, causing a rather large riff in the still surface as it came down hard on us. But before I could get over my shock, the tentacle went straight for Fred. It wrapped around his waist before, with a loud yelp from Fred, pulled him under.

I panicked.

"Fred!" I screamed, not really thinking, because, well, a giant bloody squid had my twin! So I jumped in after them.

I soon realised then why they called it the 'Black Lake.' The water was so murky it was nearly impossible to make out what anything was. So it's a pretty good thing that us Weasleys have red hair, because Fred's stuck out like a sore thumb down here. My eyes were stinging horribly, but I barely noticed as I swam frantically towards them. It had only been about thirty seconds or so, but I knew I had to get us out of here fast. I tore at the tentacle holding Fred furiously, but the squid's grip was firm.

Suddenly, however, my head brushed up against something rather squishy that I instantly realised was another one of its tentacles, and the whole squid _shuddered._ It let go of Fred immediately, and I grabbed his arm and kicked off towards the shore.

Pure terror was ransacking my body as I dragged him on to land. "Breathe, Fred, _breathe!"_ I pleaded, propping him up. And eventually, after a few horrifying seconds of stillness, he choked, spitting up water as he began to gasp. "Oh thank Merlin," I breathed, grabbing him in a hug.

Fred, after regaining his breath, gazed at me apprehensively as if expecting me to bite his head off for his idiocy. And it was a mark of how much he was bracing himself for my blowout, that he didn't say, 'I told you so.' Which I was going to do, and I gave him a piercing look to tell him so. But the first words that were out of my mouth were, "I think your squid likes to be tickled."

""""""""

Swirling images of people and places danced around George's mind now. They weren't full out memories, and no words could be heard, but faint glimses of memories that were sure to return at some point flashed before him.

But suddenly, as soon as they had appeared, they vanished into a cloud of blackness. And not so soon afterwards, George heard a familiar voice. At first, he couldn't place the name, but after a few seconds of confusion, he recognised it as Fred. Warmth filled him then, knowing who seemed to be whispering soft words of comfort into his ear, though he couldn't make any rhyme or reason out of them. They were garbled, but they soothed him since it was Fred who was saying them.

But then the pain came back.

George gasped, the pain quickly bringing him into consciousness, so unlike how he awoke last time. He suddenly became aware of everything, every twinge, every nerve that was sent on fire. But most of all, he became aware of hands brushing his hair. "Georgie?" he heard Fred say quietly.

George opened his eyes, feeling them water at the pain. Words were a tad out of his reach, but he managed a wan smile. Fred's eyes were red and puffy, and tear tracks were stained on his cheeks. "God," Fred whimpered, lifting up a shaky hand to press it to his face. "God, Georgie." And George saw in his twin's eyes exactly what he was afraid of. The haunted look had intensified. "You...I..." Fred choked, fresh tears spilling over. "God."

"Freddie," George managed to rasp out, hating how his voice sounded; that couldn't help the situation. "I'm fine. I'm okay." Fred merely moaned at his words, hiding his face in his hands. "Fred," George tried again, desperately trying to comfort his brother. He tapped Fred's shoulder, and when Fred moved his fingers to look at him, George held his arms open for a hug.

Fred immediately leaned forward and grasped his twin securely in his arms, a bit soothed at the physical contact reassuring him that George was indeed alive and well. "Love you, Fred," he heard in his ear, and he tightened his hold.

"Love you too." After several moments, Fred leaned back and smiled. "Now get some sleep, Georgiekins. You need it."

George scooted over, a wordless invitation, and gave Fred a crooked smile. "So do you."

Fred laughed weakly, clambering over the side of the bed and settling himself beside George comfortably. He pulled his brother close to him, knowing they both needed it.

"Where's Mr. Rikialria?" George asked suddenly.

"Well..." Fred said slowly. "As it turns out, he is a bit in pain himself when he heals you. So while I waited for you to wake up, he went back to St. Mungo's to recover. That's why he was missing last time, too."

"Ah," George mused tiredly, sleep already beginning to claim him. And he knew Fred wasn't far behind.

* * *

><p>Review please :)<p> 


	20. Can't Be Saved

**Author's Note: **Thank you to** Diagon Alley**, ****Aris1013****,** **HannahSchultz****,** **hachoo****,** **DisgracedxMia****,** **EricaX****, and** **Nexina**** for your lovely reviews! :) But I have an important question that I hope someone can answer! Does anyone know what month Umbridge found the Room of Requirement because Marietta (Cho's friend) told her? If anyone knows, either PM me or tell me in a review! Please and thank you! :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any single part of Harry Potter!

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**Can't Be Saved**

_'I'm stuck in a coma,  
>Stuck in a never ending sleep.<br>And some day I will wake up,  
>And realise I gave up everything.'<br>_**~ 'Can't Be Saved,' Senses Fail****  
><strong>

George woke up with a start.

For half a second, he wasn't sure what caused him to wake, but it became very clear, very soon. "Fred," he said, alarmed.

George had been asked to stay in the Hospital Wing for a few days after his 'meeting,' and when he said no, Madam Pomfry forced him to. But he'd asked for Fred to stay with him, so it hadn't been too bad. Fred kept him company, made him laugh, and comforted him when he was in pain.

But as of right now, Fred was tossing and turning in their hospital bed, faced fevered with terror. He groaned.

"Fred!" George cried, trying his best to sit up while avoiding his brother's flailing arms. "Fred, it's okay!" He desperately cast a silencing charm around them so Madam Pomfry wouldn't come bustling out and force Fred to leave for 'disrupting the patients.' George shook Fred's shoulder frantically.

"No!" Fred shrieked, but George's shaking snapped him out of whatever nightmare he seemed trapped in. He shot upright, breathing heavily as he whirled around to find George's wide, confused, and worried eyes looking right at him. There was a seconds pause, before Fred all but launched himself on him.

George, bewildered, held a trembling Fred as he sobbed into his shoulder. "It's alright," he said softly, rubbing his back in circles. "You're okay." He paused for a second, before he realised that Fred probably needed to hear this too, "I'm okay." And as expected, Fred tightened his hold, shaking harder.

It took a little while, but Fred eventually calmed down. But he still maintained his hold on George's neck, and his head still rested on his shoulder. George didn't let go of him either, but he _was_ wondering what on earth that had been about. "What happened?" George asked carefully, falling back into his pillow with a flump.

Fred yelped in surprise as he followed, still attached to his twin. But he instantly curled into his side and murmured, "Nightmare."

George resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Well, I figured that much," he said lightly, running his hand through Fred's hair. It was kind of funny, since normally it'd be Fred doing that to him to make him feel better. "What happened _in it?"_

Fred took in a shaky breath. "Just...what happened here," he said quietly. And George knew what he was referring to.

"I'm okay," George said soothingly. "The only reason I'm still here is because Madam Pomfry won't let me leave, you know that."

"But your head," Fred replied in an almost sharp tone. "I _know_ it hurts you, George."

George sighed, deciding not to lie. "Yes, it does, but Fred, it'll go away. And to be honest," he added as an after thought, "it hurts less."

"Really?" Fred asked, relief clouding his voice.

"Really," George smiled. "And I think as time goes on, the less these meetings will hurt too. So you have nothing to worry about."

"I don't know," Fred bit his lip.

"Oi, look who's the 'fragile' one now," George teased lightly.

Fred gave a slight chortle. "I'm not fragile, you tosspot." There was a moments pause. "But I'm not invincible, either." He nuzzled further into George's neck.

George's heart tightened. He leaned down to press his lips to Fred's forehead and pulled his twin closer to him. He knew that Fred knew it was the same the other way round. Then he sighed regretfully, "I knew I should've fought harder so you wouldn't have to watch."

But Fred gave a slight shake of his head. "I would've snuck in somehow. Don't beat yourself up about it."

His twin grimaced. "Only when you stop being terrorised by what you saw." Both knew that neither of them would do that anytime soon. "C'mon, let's get some sleep," he said gently, fixing the blankets around them.

Fred latched himself to George's side yet again, enjoying the warmth and comfort his twin offered to him. He was only human, after all. Sometimes he needed to be the one comforted too. And the two, knowing that the other was beside them, fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

><p>Fred, George, and Lee were all lying beneath a tree near the Black Lake, simply relaxing in the shade. George had just gotten out a few days ago, and Fred was still trying to make an effort to keep everything light-hearted and not go back into the smothering stage. But it was difficult. Fred couldn't get the image of George thrashing around in agony out of his head. So they took to sleeping in the same bed. It calmed Fred to know that George was right there, well and safe. And in return for that peace of mind, he didn't freak out over every little thing during the day. It was a happy compromise between the two, one neither of them minded in the least.<p>

George himself found himself touched yet again by Fred's concern, and found that he was as much in need of reassurance of Fred's _reality_ as Fred was of his. The two needed each other now more than ever.

It was a rather cold day, but the sun was out and shining. Sure, they _should_ be in class right now, but they felt that they deserved a break, all things considering.

But as his eyes passed over the leaves fluttering on the trees of the Forbidden Forest, alarms went off in his less-throbbing mind. "Hey!" George burst out, sitting up. Both Fred and Lee peeked their eyes open lazily to look up at him. "We haven't gone into the Forest yet!"

Lee rolled his eyes. "Oh come off it, you've only just started feeling better. You can't rush these things."

George pouted. "You're lucky I waited this long," he murmured as he went to lie back down.

Fred couldn't argue against George's curiosity; when they'd first discovered it, they were hell bent on getting in there. "Er...how about we wait just one more day?" Fred suggested, anxiety lacing his tone. "One more day, I swear," Fred added after seeing George's disbelieving look.

George sighed. "Oh, alright. But what are we going to do today, then? It's Friday."

"Well, we should probably be in class," Lee said in a mock serious voice. They laughed. Yeah, right, like that would happen. "Hmm, I don't know," he continued, rolling on to his stomach.

But Fred suddenly lit up. "The kitchen!"

Lee let a beam slowly erupt on his face. "Brilliant! We haven't been there all year!"

George just looked confused. "What's so great about a kitchen?"

Lee gaped at him, sat up, and pretended to faint. He expected Fred to catch him, but he just let him hit the ground with a snicker. "Oi," Lee grumbled.

Fred, grinning, turned to George and waggled his eyebrows. "You'll see," he replied mysteriously, standing up and holding his hand out to his twin to pull him up.

George was utterly confused. The only kitchen he'd ever seen was the one in Grimmauld Place, and to be honest, it wasn't really anything spectacular. Not that it was bad, it just seemed...ordinary. Well, as ordinary as it could be considering that George had to have Fred explain to him what everything in there was. But still, there certainly wasn't anything there that made him get all excited like Fred and Lee were right now.

Lee was bouncing the entire way, making the two gingers wonder how much caffine he had that morning. They flew down the stairs, careful to not make too much noise so no teachers that would catch them out of class.

"Hold on," George said suddenly as they started down a hallway, stopping. Both Fred and Lee turned around to look at him with raised eyebrows. "You guys are tricking me, aren't you," he smirked.

Perplexed, Fred replied, "No? Why?"

"This is the way to the Hufflepuff Common Room," George said triumphantly, feeling as if he finally got one over on them.

However, both wizards nodded slowly. "Yeah," said Lee, "and it's also the way to the kitchen." Fred looked simply stunned that his brother remembered that.

But George simply looked skeptical. He really didn't put it past them to try and mess with him because he couldn't remember anything.

"Oh, come off it," Fred rolled his eyes. "We wouldn't lie about this! Well, okay we would," he mended, seeing George's look, "but not to you! Just come on, I promise that it exists."

After a few moments of hesitation, George gave in. "Alright, but it better not be a trick," he warned.

"Please," Fred scoffed, but he winked as he pulled George around a corner with him, Lee trailing behind.

It wasn't long until they came to a rather large portrait of a bowl of fruit. And George realised that they'd been lying the whole time. "You prats!" George cried, disgruntled. "You actually got me to fall for it!" He went to turn around, but Fred caught his arm.

"George, we are _not_ lying, for Merlin's sake!" George was amused to see that Fred looked exasperated. "We just have to tickle the pear."

George looked at him for a second, before he burst out laughing. He clutched on to Lee and simply howled. "That...is so..._strange,"_ he gasped between chuckles, and neither Fred nor Lee could help but laugh at his reaction.

"Oh, shut it, you git," Fred grinned, and he reached out to lightly tickle the pear expertly.

George briefly wondered if that was how Fred became so malicious with his tickle assaults. Yet to George's astonishment, the pear..._giggled?_

The portrait swung open like a door, leaving a small staircase behind it. George gaped. "Still think we're lying?" Fred smirked.

George quickly closed his mouth, and mock glowered. He followed Fred and Lee up the stairs, and found himself once again in awe. In front of him lay four large tables that looked exactly like the ones in the Great Hall, and a doorway that led to another room. The walls were painted yellow to brighten up the room with green hedging along the ceiling and floor. The biggest difference between the Great Hall and the kitchen, however, was the fact that what looked like a billion little Kreatures were scrambling around everywhere.

"Um..." George got out. He wasn't sure he really wanted to be here; Kreature hadn't exactly been the friendliest of people.

"Oh, they don't bite," Lee beamed. "They're really helpful."

Suddenly, they all seemed to notice them, and some of the house-elves that stood on stools actually squeaked and toppled out of sight. "Good morning Messers Weasley and Mister Jordan!" they all chimed.

Fred winked at George's dumbstruck expression.

"And what would the Sirs be liking?" asked a rather excited house-elf just above Lee's knee.

"Hmm." Fred turned to the other two. "What would you like?"

"Er...anything, I suppose?" George stammered, still a little shocked.

But then something clicked in Fred's mind. "Strawberry ice cream!" he nearly shouted, the thought going off in his head like an alarm. "Er, sorry, I mean, we'd like strawberry ice cream if it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all, Sir!" the house-elf squealed in delight, nearly tripping over herself to fulfill their wishes.

"Thanks!" Lee called after her. "Oh how I love it here," he sighed.

"Are they...usually like this?" George asked, grinning at their odd but humourous behaviour.

"All day, every day," Fred replied with a chuckle. "It really takes a lot to bring a house-elf down."

"So...Kreature...?"

"Is too attached to his dead mistress," Fred replied simply. "Drove himself insane with the thought, so I'm told. Never liked Sirius from the beginning, either."

"Huh," was all George could think to say before the house-elf came scrambling back to them.

"This way, Sirs!" she called, and the three trooped after her. She led them through a few doors to where she had clearly set up a nice, square table with checkered tablecloth. On top was three enormous bowls of strawberry ice cream.

"Thank you very much...?" Fred trailed off.

"Nelly, Sir!" the house-elf responded happily.

"Nelly," he smiled. "Thanks."

"I hope the Sirs enjoy their dessert!" she sang before she bustled through the door to leave them alone.

"Just one question," George said as he sat down beside Fred. "Why strawberry ice cream?"

"It's your favourite dessert," Fred sighed wistfully. "Try it."

George did as he was told, and found to his delight, that it was indeed the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. He beamed happily and started to eat it with more vigour.

Fred and Lee laughed before joining, though it saddened both of them a bit to know that George didn't even know his own favourite dessert.

"Why haven't you taken me here earlier?" George asked in a mock accusitory voice.

"Because we like keeping things from you," Fred rolled his eyes. "I guess it just wasn't high on our priority list."

"Speak for yourself!" Lee cried. "I've been dying to come down here since the beginning of the school year!"

"Then why didn't you?" George asked, amused.

It was Lee's turn to roll his eyes. "Please. Like I'd come here without you guys."

The twins chuckled. However, George frowned a few moments later when his spoon hit the bottom of his bowl. "Well that's depressing."

Fred laughed before passing over his bowl. "Here, you always liked it more than me."

George happily complied.

* * *

><p>As a rule of Fred not 'freaking out' anymore, George was allowed to wander around by himself should Fred, on a rare occurence, not be around. And this happened to be one of those times.<p>

Fred had somehow landed himself in detention with Professor McGonagall and no amount of protesting got him out of it. George had found himself walking with his twin at the end of the day to where Fred would be serving his detention. Fred had turned to him, and with poorly concealed worry, and nearly begged, "You won't do anything stupid, right?"

George rolled his eyes and gave him a crooked smile. "Shouldn't I be saying that to you?"

But Fred couldn't find it in him to be amused. "I'm serious."

"Really? I thought you were Fred?"

"Merlin, George," Fred groaned, exasperated.

George held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. But you know, in all circumstances, I think you're the one I should be saying this to."

"Because of McGonagall?" Fred snorted. "Please, she may be hard, but she's no where near sadistic. And if I recall correctly, _you're_ the one with the God awful luck."

"I'll be fine, Fred," George chuckled, though a part of him almost didn't want him to go. "Go on, you don't want to be late."

Fred frowned. "Yeah."

George gave him a grin and patted him on the shoulder. "You'll make a great mother some day."

"Oh shut it, you prat," Fred grumbled playfully before turning around and entring the classroom.

The ginger still in the hallway shoved his hands in his pockets and meandered down the other way, not sure where to go but simply enjoying the quiet. He loved Fred's obnoxious, lively behaviour, but even twins such as them needed a few seconds to gather their thoughts. He walked down the hallways and up stairs until he came to a tower he couldn't quite remember ever being in before. It was quite intriguing.

It had what looked like a thousand windows covering the walls, some with window sills, some with drapes, and some that were nothing more than gaping holes carved messily out of the stone. In fact, George wasn't sure if it were walls with windows or just many openings with thin supports in between. The floors were merely wood, and the ceiling came to a point.

And it was either by chance, coincidence, fate, whatever you want to call it that he happened to look out one window in particular out of the many hundreds that surrounded him.

But whatever compelled him to do it had him peering towards the grounds, almost as if to see how high he was, before the sight stopped him in his tracks. The unfortunately familiar white blonde hair nearly blended in with the snow around him, but his dark robes stood out as a stark contrast. Not to mention the three men he was talking to. George leaned further out, confused as his mind raced. He couldn't hear a word they were saying because it was obvious that their voices were hushed and he _was_ a good while away from the ground. But judging by the way Malfoy kept checking over his shoulder to see if anyone was coming, the three men weren't supposed to be there.

_Who are they?_ George wondered, instantly suspicious. Knowing Malfoy, it was obviously something bad. If he could just hear what they were saying, he could nab him...

However, a thrill of horror shot through him when he saw one of the men point towards the tower..._his tower!_ George flung himself recklessly to the ground, heart hammering. _Did they see me?_ He didn't like to think of what would happen if they did. He stayed flattened to the ground for what felt like an hour, before the curiosity got the better of them. He slowly peeked his head out, and to his relief he found them in the same position still talking. He ducked back down and, feeling quite ridiculous, crawled towards the door and out it.

He shook his head and tried to still his pounding heart. _Well, that was close,_ he thought dryly. But that also led him back to wondering what on earth that had been about. First of all, Malfoy wasn't surrounding himself with goons. He was by himself. Well, save for the three burly men that he was talking to, but that was another thing. Why in Merlin's beard was he talking to people who looked like they were the last people to step foot on Hogwarts grounds? George felt a twinge of foreboding, but he tried to ignore it. It'd all come out in due time. Besides, maybe he was over reacting. Maybe Fred would know more.

George tried to forget about it as he continued his walk -

- And ran right into what felt like a living wall.

_"Oof!"_ George's muffled groan sounded as he collided with furry, yet stringy material and he threatened to fall backwards. Until huge saucer like hands gripped his shoulders.

"All righ', there George? Or Fred, I can never tell the difference between the two o' yeh."

"Fine," George murmured, rubbing his neck before he looked into possibly the biggest person he had ever met in his entire life. He looked about three times the size of him, with a great furry brown beard along with a great brown mane. He had dark, beady like eyes, though they somehow radiated warmth. "Er...it's George."

"'Course you are," the man beamed, though he looked a bit skeptical, as if waiting for him to actually reveal that he's Fred. "Where are yeh off to? Where's tha' twin of yers?"

"Er...Fred's in detention," George stated, though he got a bit shifty eyed. He got the feeling that he was friends with this giant, but he had no idea who he was, and new people made him nervous.

"Withou' yeh?" the man asked, shocked. "Never thought I'd see the day."

George smirked, but a part of him panicked that maybe this was too far-fetched for the old Fred and George. "Yes, well, Fred never can hold his tongue," he grinned, hopefully convincingly.

The bearded man chuckled, "None of yeh ever could. But why haven't yeh been to see me this year?" the man looked hurt. "Yeh didn't get bored o' me, did yeh?"

George seriously doubted he could ever be bored of a man like him. And he told him so.

The man beamed. "Bring yer brother with yeh and come see me tonight, alright?"

"Will do," he smiled, though he desperately wished he knew who he was. He'd definitely have to ask Fred later. He waved goodbye, and continued on his way, now having something else to think about as well.

However, he checked his watch and discovered that Fred should be getting out in half an hour, so he started on his way to where he hoped was the right direction. And as it turned out, after many frantic wrong turns, he got there just before Fred left; he knew that if Fred opened the door, and George wasn't there, he'd find himself flying into a fit, even though he _swore_ he wouldn't. And his suspicions were confirmed when he saw Fred's obvious relief, and his heart clenched a little at how worried he always seemed to be.

"Hey," George grinned, pushing off from against the wall. "How was it?"

Fred shrugged. "Boring. You were okay?"

George waved his hand, "Oh ye of little faith." He wondered if he should mention the Malfoy thing to Fred, but then he decided against it. Fred would throw himself into a tizzy. "But I do have a question. Who's that big guy, with the beard, looks like a giant?"

His confused expression vanished instantly and he beamed brightly. "Oh, that's Hagrid! Nicest guy you'll ever meet. Funniest bloke, too, when he's drunk." He frowned. "Shame we haven't seen him all year."

"Well, I just ran into him...literally _ran_...and he invited us to come visit him. I've never seen him before, is he a teacher?"

Fred's grin, is possible, grew wider. "Best bloody teacher ever! He's the 'Care of Magical Creatures' teacher, though he is a bit mad when it comes to them. Likes dangerous things, he does. Nearly kills someone every year, but it's ruddy hilarious, especially since it tends to be a Slytherin. He's also the game keeper. He got kicked out of Hogwarts during his third year, though I don't think anyone knows why, and either way he ain't telling. Likes building relationships with the students, though normally only those from Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Slytherins are gits, and Ravenclaws tend to make people feel stupid."

George's mind was realing at the sudden information, but the more Fred spoke, the more George grew to like the man. "Oh, and he's not actually a giant," Fred informed as if as an after thought. "Half-giant. Don't mention it in front of him, though, okay? Gets him all depressed."

"Why?"

Fred grimaced. "It kind of leaked out last year that he was a half-giant and a lot of people turned on him for it. Not to mention that he doesn't exactly have parents anymore."

"Er...why was that a problem?"

"Well blimey, George, giants aren't exactly the nicest people in the world."

George rolled his eyes. How was he supposed to know? But then he frowned. "He...Hagrid, did you say? He seemed friendly."

"He is," Fred nodded. "One of the few good ones to come out of giant, wizard breeding. Strange combination if you ask me."

George sniggered. "Let's go see him now," he grinned. They started off towards Hagrid's hut, which George was surprised he never noticed before. And the ginger noticed on the way, that Malfoy and the three mysterious men were no longer there. Curious.

"He lives here?" George asked. "Why doesn't he, I don't know, live in the castle like the rest of the teachers?"

"He -" but Fred frowned. "You know, I have no idea. Maybe it's for his dog. I don't think they're allowed in the castle, since we can't have one for a pet."

"Hagrid has a dog?"

"Mhmm," his twin nodded. "Fang. But he's a coward."

George corked an eyebrow. "Er.."

"He's weird with names. Named a three-headed dog Fluffy once."

They came up to the door and knocked. Instantly, loud barks filled the house and scratched at the door. "Back! - _Fang, back!"_

"Coward, eh?" George smirked. Fred merely rolled his eyes.

The door flung open, and once more George found himself face to face with the giant man known as Hagrid. "Well now, yeh finally found it in yeh to come visit me, eh?" he said quite seriously.

Both gingers looked guilty. "Hagrid, we're really sorry -" Fred began.

But Hagrid broke out into a wide grin. "Ah, I'm jus' kiddin', no need to get worried. Come on in."

The two trailed in after him, and George looked around in wonder. He'd never seen a place quite like it, and though it had to be the smallest house he'd ever seen (not that that was saying much), it felt very...cozy. But he frowned inwardly when he thought of such a big man like Hagrid having to live in such tiny conditions. Couldn't Dumbledore expand it for him?

Hagrid struggled with the giant, black dog who seemed bent on either licking them to death or eating them. George liked to think it _wasn't_ the latter. "Make yerselves comfortable," Hagrid puffed happily, seeming overjoyed that the twins were there.

"Got any weird pets to show us, Hagrid?" Fred asked excitedly.

Once Hagrid could tame his dog somewhat (though he drooled quite spectacularly all over the ginger's feet) and sat down, he seemed to ponder the question. "Have yeh seen the threstals, yet?"

"Threstals?" George asked, confused. "What're threstals?"

Hagrid positively glowed. "I'll show yeh! They're jus' in the forest."

George sneaked a glance at Fred, eyes filled with amusement. Fred didn't look pleased. "Come off it, Hagrid, he won't be able to see them."

"What to you mean I won't be able to see them?" George scoffed. "They can't be that tiny."

"Nah, they ain't tiny," Hagrid said, a bit unhappy at being reminded of the fact as he rubbed the back of his neck. "But yeh probably won't be able ter see 'em, 'cause yeh have to have witnessed someone die to see them. But you'll be able ter see their footprints."

"Well, let's go then," George smiled, excited.

"How far into the forest are they?" Fred asked, almost desperately.

Hagrid raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter with yeh? Normally yeh'd be the firs' one out there."

It then came back to the twins; Hagrid didn't know about George.

"Um...well, you see..." Fred said awkwardly, looking at George, unsure as to whether he wanted him to know.

"I, er, lost my memory at the beginning of the year," George said quietly, looking embarrassed. "A Bludger hit me in the head."

Hagrid simply rolled his eyes. "Yeh know yeh guys can't fool me anymore."

"Hagrid," Fred said in the most serious voice either had ever heard him use. "We're telling the truth. Ask Madam Pomfrey, our Mum, Harry...anyone. We wouldn't lie about something like this for so long."

Finally, it seemed to sink in. Hagrid gaped like a fish, looking between both twins. And then, he seemed to burst into tears. "W-Why didn't y-yeh tell me?" he howled, grabbing Fred over the table into a rib smashing hug. The table got knocked over in the process.

"Wrong...person!" Fred gasped, trying to get out of his grasp.

Hagrid blinked. "S-Sorry," he murmured before relasing Fred only to then grab the very surprised and slightly entertained George; he found Fred's expression hilarious when he got grabbed instead. George could've sworn he heard his ribs crack as Hagrid crushed his body.

"Hagrid," Fred said, alarmed. "You're going to suffocate him at this rate." Indeed, George's face had turned a little blue.

The half-giant eventually let go, but his eyes were red and swollen. George rubbed his chest painfully, and Fred threw him a worried glance. "I just...I didn' know!" Hagrid blubbered. "Are yeh okay? Will yeh remember things soon?"

"Er..." George shared a glance with Fred. "Yeah, Hagird. It's already starting to come back a bit."

Hagrid gave a watery smile. "Good."

They felt a little bad for misleading him, but they sure as hell weren't going to tell him what was actually going on. And it was because of this decision, that the three of them enjoyed a worry-free evening.

* * *

><p>Review please :)<p> 


	21. Crooked Teeth

**Author's Note: **Ah! :D A HUGE thank you to **93 Diagon Alley**, **Aris1013**, **hachoo**, **DisgracedxMia**, **EricaX**, **Moonlight900**, **Dimcairien**, and **Anonymous**for reviewing! :) I'm glad you all seemed to like the last chapter! I hope you like this one too! :D

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing whatsoever. Except...no, nevermind, nothing :P

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Crooked Teeth**

_'It was one hundred degress,  
>As we sat beneath a willow tree,<br>Whose tears didn't care, they just hung in the air,  
>And refused to fall, to fall.'<br>_**~ 'Crooked Teeth,' Death Cab for Cutie**

George couldn't sleep.

It wasn't anything new; he normally couldn't sleep too well due to his head, but he couldn't help but wonder what on earth Malfoy had been doing. Fred had told him about Death Eaters. It wasn't exactly the happiest conversation they'd ever had together, but he made sure to mention how the Malfoys were devoted to You-Know-Who. And that they had the Ministry wrapped around their finger and most people were either too afraid or not high enough on the ladder to accuse them of anything. George couldn't help but think that the three men might've been Death Eaters.

He tucked his arms behind his head and gazed up at the ceiling, lost in thought. But, there was also the fact that the man saw him. Did Malfoy? Did he recognise him? _Don't be stupid!_ a voice inside his head immediately scolded him. _How could he have identified you in point five of a second? _George shook his head at himself. He really was being ridiculous.

And anyways, why would they risk being caught in broad daylight if this was Dumbledore's school? Didn't You-Know-Who fear him or something? It seemed like a suicide mission if they were only going to talk to a fifteen year old son of a Death Eater.

But...who _were_ they then? And why did they show up to meet with him secretly?

"George?"

The ginger inclined his head in the direction of his twin's raspy, sleepy voice right beside him. "Mmm?"

"What're you doing up?" Fred yawned, propping himself up on his elbows to look at George. "Does your head hurt?"

_Well, yes,_ George thought, but that wasn't why he was up. "Not so much. Just thinking."

"Oh? About what?"

George didn't say anything. _I'm probably over-reacting,_ he thought. He didn't want to alarm or concern his easily worried brother, but he was still curious. Maybe it was...erm...he'll think of a reason later.

Fred's eyebrows knitted together. "Georgie?"

"Mmm?"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Seriously, George?" No answer. Completely annoyed, he jabbed a finger into George's side, who yelped. "Answer the question."

"Freddie, it's really just me being an idiot."

"Uh-huh, then why can't you tell me?" Fred sounded slightly urgent.

George gave up. "Oh all right. You know when you had the detention yesterday?" Fred nodded, not liking that it happened when he wasn't around. "Well, I wound up at a tower that I've never been up before. It had a million windows." Fred nodded again in understanding. "Anyway, I just happened to look out one of them, and I saw Malfoy out front with three men in dark robes." Fred's heart stopped. "I didn't get that good of a look because I think one of them saw me, so I ducked out of the way."

"Nothing happened?" Fred demanded, staring at his twin with fervor, searching for any signs that he'd been attacked. Because he had an idea of who they were.

George shook his head. "No. I was just wondering what was going on."

"And they couldn't have possibly known it was you, right?" Fred asked again, sounding slightly hysterical.

"I don't think so, no."

Fred dropped his head into his pillow, burying his face. He muttered something that sounded strangely reminiscent to a curse word.

"I know what you're thinking, but I don't think they were Death Eaters."

"How do you know?" Fred said, sitting up in a whirlwind of covers and ginger hair.

"Because even they're not that stupid," George reasoned. "Stupid, yes, but not _that_ stupid. We'll figure it out later. _After_ we go into the Forbidden Forest," George grinned, trying to change topics.

Fred sighed, deciding to let it go. "Alright." He laid down again, but not before making sure that George was as well. And not only that, but he tugged on George's hair until he was safely tucked at his side. Not that George needed much prodding; he liked the feeling of comfort Fred provided. It made Fred feel better to know he was right there _and safe;_ more then he ever thought it would. He just...George kept almost being killed and it just wasn't _fair!_ He shouldn't be in so much fear over whether George would be here next week.

They'd both just be glad when this whole year and situation was over.

* * *

><p><em>"Lee!" <em>

The dreadlocked boy froze, humourously debating between running or simply giving in. He had been walking on the grounds when he heard their voices. But he didn't have much time to figure it out before the ginger twins tackled him to the ground. "There you are, you prat!" Fred or George yelled in his ear. Probably Fred.

"Where've you been? It's time to go into the Forest!" Yep, that was definitely George.

"Alright, alright," he grumbled playfully, shoving both of them off of him. "Now?"

"Yes, now!" George declared, nearly exploding with excitement. It was definitely less scary knowing that the two of them were going in there with him. "What, are we going to wait for the grass to grow?"

"You're sure about this?" Lee checked, sharing a glance with Fred.

"Mhmm!" George nodded enthusiastically, reminding Fred of a little kid. He smiled fondly at the thought.

"Let's go!" Fred grinned, yanking Lee up, as George seemed ready to run into the Forest right that very minute. "We just have to make sure that Hagrid won't catch us."

George bounced on his feet, the beam almost blinding. He didn't seem to care about that tiny little fact. "What're we going to find?" he asked happily as they started a fast pace to the Forest.

"Depends on how far we go in," Lee smirked; George's additude was contagious.

"Stop," Fred paused, putting his arm out. He slowly started to walk forward, turning around and putting a finger to his lips while pointing at Hagrid's house. Neither Lee nor George had realised exactly how close they were.

They slowly crept after him, all three pairs of eyes locked on to the window of Hagrid's house and praying that he would not turn around. George was behind Fred, and Lee brought up the rear as they edged closer to the trees. And in one short burst, they sprinted all the way into it, laughing breathlessly once they were far enough in.

George took a moment to look around himself in wonder. It really was nothing special as of now; just a bunch of trees. But there was the fact that this was the first forest George could remember being. And there is something uniquely magestic about being inside the forest and looking up to see the trees tower over you, as opposed to being outside of it.

"Come on," Fred grinned, lightly tugging on George's sleeve to bring him back to the present.

However, that didn't stop George from nearly twirling around in circles, trying to look at everything at once. And at every sound, he turned excitedly to see if anything was there. So far, it was nothing more than birds.

"Hey, we're going pretty far," Lee warned. He didn't know why, but if Fred wasn't going to be the cautious, protective one, then he felt like he should take up that role. It wasn't the farthest they'd ever been, but...they never knew what they would find, and with George...

"What's that?" George suddenly exclaimed, pointing off into the distance where a rustle of leaves have been clearly evident.

Fred kept his eyes glued to the direction in which he was pointing. Until he heard the sound of hooves. "Oh _shit!"_ He grasped George's arm and took off running, checking behind his shoulder to make sure that Lee was following too. But Lee had heard as well, and his eyes were wide as he sprinted. Centaurs did _not_ like humans in their Forest. Hagrid they standed. Everyone else? Not so much.

George had no idea what was going on, but if Fred was panicked, it couldn't be good. He kept up with Fred, the trees now a blur as he heard their panting and hooves in his ears. Suddenly, Fred yanked him to the left, and they tumbled behind a bush, Lee tripping over it himself. They huddled behind it, trying to stifle their gasps as they heard hooves pass by and slowly disappear.

"What..._was _that?" George demanded, still slightly breathless.

"Centaurs," Fred answered grimly. "They don't like people."

"Uh...guys?" Lee stammered. The twins turned to look at Lee, before they froze at the loud crack behind them.

Ever so slowly, the gingers turned to see what Lee was staring at. And it was not something any of them, even though two of them had their memories, had ever seen before.

What sat before them, was something that made Hagrid look like an ant. This, was an actual-sized giant.

"Erm...Fred?" George said uncertainly. "What's that?"

"That, Georgie," Fred squeaked. "Is a giant."

* * *

><p>Neither of them knew what to do.<p>

What on earth was a giant doing in the Forest? George was a bit awed, and frightened. But only because he was afraid that he got Fred and Lee into trouble.

The giant had black hair and a rather baby face. He seemed a bit slow, and easily curious. Not to mention incredibly huge!

"We can't wait here all day," Lee hissed.

Fred nodded. "I'll get up and see if I can make it out -"

"Wait, wait, wait," George interrupted, looking at his twin like he was crazy. "This was my fault, I'll go."

His brother glowered. "Don't he an idiot," he retorted, "this is the first time you've ever seen a giant."

"Have you?" George inquired interestedly.

Fred suddenly looked a bit sheepish. "Er...well, not in person."

"Uh-huh," George smirked in that maddening 'I-just-got-one-over-on-you' way that you can't help but get annoyed at.

"This is not the time to start fighting!" Lee growled just as Fred opened his mouth to respond. "Let's just all go together, alright?"

The twins looked at each other, and then nodded. "On three?" Fred whispered.

"One -"

"Two -"

"Three!"

Lee, Fred, and George all shot up and took off running. It was really rather lucky in some way that the giant seemed to find them so fascinating. All he could do while they tried to figure out what to do was stare at the three of them with interest. However, it backfired when he realised that they were leaving.

With a lurch he bounded forward, easily making up whatever distance the three of them had made in two bounds. George's heart was in his throat as he sprinted, his wrist firmly clasped in Fred's as the older twin led him forward, and Lee was even farther ahead than Fred. But suddenly George felt like a bus hit him from the side as he got crushed into Fred. The ground disappeared from beneath their feet as they registered in their dazed minds that it was the giant's hand around them.

Apparently, Lee hadn't realised that they were gone, because he was still going for it. Though, he didn't get very far until with a startled cry Lee was lifted up as well.

"Are you okay?" Fred rasped in George's ear, his voice hinted with pain.

George's only response was to groan, "I think he broke our ribs."

"Well this is great," grunted Lee as the giant took the two steps back to their original position. "This is absolutely fantastic." The giant sat down with a thump that had them all seizing up with terror as they dropped.

"Do giants eat people?" George asked in alarm.

"Erm...I don't know," Fred admitted. He knew very little about giants, to be honest. But still, he'd have a better chance against one than George would.

And with a sudden jolt, Fred and George were lifted up to the giant's eye level, his great big eyes scrutinizing them with a confused gaze. He looked absolutely bewildered at the twins' identical appearance. The giant used the index finger of the hand that held Lee to prod at George's chest and mess up Fred's hair. All the while the three of them kept perfectly still, frozen almost completely in fear.

George's mind couldn't really comprehend what was going on as he stared back. Was this really happening? Did he honestly get his two best friends into this kind of danger? How was he supposed to get them out of it? What were they supposed to do, bite his hand? Somehow, George severely doubted that his teeth would survive.

But a sudden thought bounced into George's head. It was so simple...was it possible? "Can they talk?" he asked Fred somewhat urgently.

"Erm...some can, I think," Fred said slowly, racking his brain for any information. It was funny, but now that he was actually up against one, Fred couldn't remember whatever little information he knew about giants.

George took a deep breath. It was worth a shot, right? "Hey!" he shouted, wiggling a bit in the tight grasp around him so that if he didn't hear him, he'd at least feel him move. The giant's eyes became trained on George. He gulped and commanded in the firmest voice he could manage, "Let us down."

The giant blinked. "Um...please?" George squeaked. And to their utter astonishment, the giant slowly set them on the ground a bit roughly.

George stumbled back into Fred, who caught him before he could fall; he was shaking all over, but a new found interest sparked in his mind. "It's okay, Georgie," Fred said soothingly, albeit shakily as he held his trembling brother. "I think he'll let us go...just back away slowly."

"Wait," George whispered, looking up at the now sheepish giant and pulling free of Fred's grip. "Er...what's your name?" George called up uncertainly.

"What are you doing?" Lee hissed, tugging on George's arm. "Let's go!"

"George," Fred said in warning, a bit worried.

But the giant leaned down to look at George carefully. Fred grabbed George's wrist tightly, ready to yank him away should the giant come any closer. "What's your name?" George asked again, though louder than before. He ignored Fred's fingernails digging into his arm and his furious snarls echoing in his ears; Fred seemed angry that George was deliberately putting himself in danger, though George didn't think that the giant was all that dangerous. Or, well, he didn't _mean_ to be. He leaned more towards the 'he-doesn't-know-his-own-strength' concept. Perhaps if they were kind to him...

"GRAWP!" the giant suddenly roared. "GRAWP!"

George shrank into Fred's chest despite his belief that 'Grawp' was not deliberately aggressive; you'd be frightened of a dog barking and growling at you even if you knew he was normally affectionate. "G-Grawp?" George squaked, staring up at the giant with wide eyes. "Your name's Grawp?"

"GRAWP! GRAWP! GRAWP!"

"Okay!" George said quickly, hands up in surrender. "Grawp. What...er...what are you doing here?"

Lee seemed absolutely frantic in annoyance and panic. "What the hell, George!" Lee growled, feeling the strong urge to smack him. "What the hell is wrong with you!"

"HAGRID!" Grawp shouted, crouching down so far that his face was nearly level with the ginger's. His hand reached out to grab George again, but Fred yelped with fear and shoved his twin to the side. Fred pushed George into a tree and stood in front of him so Grawp would have to go through him to get to his brother.

Although touched by Fred's display, George snuck from underneath his arm and said, "You...You know Hagrid?"

_"George!"_ Fred fumed in fury, wanting to smack him himself. Was his brother _mad?_

"HAGRID! HAGRID!" Grawp continued to bellow. "BRUDDER!"

"Br...brudder?" George repeated, confused. _Brudder...bruh-der...brudder...brother! _"He's your brother?"

Grawp nodded his head furiously, sitting down with another thump that nearly sent the three of them to the ground and twiddled his thumbs. In fact, now that George saw him clearly, he looked down right...innocent. Almost...vulnerable in a way.

"George...please, let's go," Fred pleaded, unable to see anything other than Grawp had tried to grab George.

George gave him an apologetic look. "You can go if you want, don't wait for me," he said genuinely. "I don't think he'll hurt us. I think he was just interested with us."

Fred glowered at him fiercely. "Don't be a git," he snarled. "Leave you my ass."

George raised an eyebrow. "No, listen, take Lee out of the forest. I'll be okay -"

Fred punched him in the arm. "Say something like that one more time and I'll hex you into next week!" he growled so furiously that George backed away slightly, rubbing his arm. But he didn't get very far as Fred immediately pulled him back within arm's length.

"I like that idea!" Lee piped up, eyeing the giant warily. Fred glared at him.

"Look, Fred, I'm okay," George said confidently, looking into Fred's anxious eyes. "I don't think he's that dangerous."

"Says you," Fred murmured, fear and worry still etched on his face.

George turned back to Grawp, and found him drawing something in the dirt. Curious, George motioned for Fred to let him go forward. Fred did so reluctantly, but glued himself to his side regardless as George creeped forward, peering at the picture. "It looks like -"

"A mountain," Fred said in a low voice. "And...a lake?" Grawp, having heard him, let out a roar, shaking his head furiously. "Okay," Fred squeaked, "it's not a lake."

"Erm..." Lee suddenly said, coming up beside them. "A...er...pond?"

Another angry rumble from Grawp.

The giant began elaborating on his drawing, though it was nothing short of a kindergardener's skill level. He drew dead fish and what looked like lilly pads, though of course George had no idea what they were.

"A swamp!" Fred suddenly declared, having studied the picture for a few seconds.

Grawp clapped his hands, nodded enthusiastically. But a pained expression reached his eyes as he stared at it. "Was that your home?" Fred asked, finally seeing what George had saw in him.

Grawp let out a huge sigh that whipped the three wizards' hair around their faces and nodded. George frowned. He wondered why Hagrid had brought him there, but as he didn't think they were supposed to know, he doubted he could ask him. Besides, it was probably for a good reason. And as George turned to look at Fred, he saw the same determination in his twin's eyes as he knew were in his.

They were going to somehow bring Grawp a little piece of home.

* * *

><p>Reviews are lovely :)<p> 


	22. Upside Down

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! I just want to say a huge thank you to **93 Diagon Alley**,**Aris1013**, **hachoo**, **DisgracedxMia**, **SlytherinPotionBrewer**, **EricaX**,** **HideyoshiK****,** **Amanda****, and** **Anonymous**** for reviewing! But a special thanks to **Amanda** for pointing out that Grawp actually says 'Hagger' instead of Hagrid :P I completely forgot that! :D And I also just realised that I forgot to thank **Moonlight900** for pointing out a little while back that 'Madam Pomfrey' is spelled with an 'e' :P lol I can't believe I didn't see that before, but thank you both very much for your help! :)

I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**Disclaimer: **I've run out of ways to say I don't own this...

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Upside Down**

_'And with each new day,  
>I can feel a change in everything,<br>And as the surface breaks reflections fade,  
>But in some ways they remain the same.'<br>_**~ 'Upside Down,' Jack Johnson**

"I think we should add the crushed nettles before the horned slugs," Fred said, vacillating between peering into their cauldron and looking back at their ingredients.

George came up beside him, looking into the cauldron of everything they'd mixed thus far. They were in their completely vacated dormitory; everyone else were either roaming the castle or in Hogsmead. The two of them had decided to start brewing the swamp for Grawp as soon as they were sure that everyone else would be gone. Truth be told, George had absolutely no idea how to do this, and he was just banking on Fred and for his lost memory to just rapidly come back. The problem with that, was that this was something they had never made before, so it couldn't be recalled. All the ingredients and what they do, well, that was a different story. "Erm...hold on," George replied as he went back to pick up a potions textbook.

Fred rolled his eyes and said teasingly, "Oh George, why must you consult _Snape's_ teachings?"

His twin mock glowered. "I just want to make sure you don't harm us," he bantered with an amused smirk. "How am I supposed to know whether adding nettles before horned slugs won't equal bodies being blown up?"

"Oh ye of little faith," Fred sighed dramatically.

"Oh ye of _too much_ faith," George countered with a grin. He flipped through the pages, his toungue sticking out a bit as he searched for the answers he wanted. Fred laughed at the sight. "Ah, here we go," he murmured, pointing at a list of ingredients. "Yeah...yeah, I think you're right."

"When am I ever not?" Fred said pompously, beaming. He paused for a second. "Don't answer that."

"Just add the nettles," George ordered playfully. "Did you get the ginger roots?"

Fred whipped his head up towards him. "No, I thought you were getting them."

George groaned, "No, _I_ got the frog spawn. Which was really gross, by the way."

"Oh well, I'll just go get it -"

"Nuh-uh, I'm coming with you," George remarked. "I have to make sure you get the right thing this time."

"I don't need a baby-sitter -"

"Uh-huh," George smirked. "Just hide the cauldron."

Fred rolled his eyes, but shrunk the cauldron so it could fit under their bed before they headed for the Common room door. To Snape's secret stash to be specific. That grouchy old bat had everything.

They trumped down the moving stairs, taking notice of which ones they were on. Mostly it was just guess and run like hell, but some followed a strict system. Like the stairs on the sixth floor only moved every seventeenth minute of each hour, and it spends that one minute moving like crazy until it randomly settles on a different area depending on when the minute ends. It was like clock work. And some were seasonal shifters.

"You know, we haven't been to a DA meeting in a while," George said suddenly.

Fred frowned. "Oh yeah. How many did we miss, do you reckon?"

"Well it's nearly February, so I'd say -"

"Excuse me," said a gruff voice from behind them. "Is one of you a Mr. George Weasley?"

The gingers turned around, and immediately George froze. His heart thudded wildly in his chest. Before him were three men. The very same three men he had seen with Malfoy.

Fred narrowed his eyes, feeling his twin tense beside him. "Who wants to know?" he asked rather rudely.

"The Ministry," the man who had spoken leered. Neither Weasley liked the look of this man. He looked cruel and cold. "We have an order from the Minister of Magic to take a George Weasley with us."

Both gaped. So..._that_ was what that meeting had been about! "On what grounds?" Fred growled, clenching his fists. Apparently he had connected the dots himself.

"On the grounds that he sustained a head injury," said a different man. He wasn't as cool, but he wasn't the friendliest person. All three of them had slight stuble and black hair, all in the same hair cut. It seemed like a uniform thing. "He's been accused of being unstable."

"That's a load of rubbish!" Fred barked furiously, moving to stand in front of his brother, fingers wrapped tightly around his wand.

"Ah, we were told you would be the problem," the third man smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Now unless George comes quietly, we're going to take him by force."

"Just try it," Fred snarled, pulling his wand out. Those bastards would have to pry George from his cold, dead fingers in order to have him.

George wasn't about to let Fred fight his battle alone, and seeing the look on his face, he knew there was no talking him out of it. He stared right into the eyes of the people who were trying to separate him and his twin, and he felt anger building up inside of him. Why couldn't they leave them alone? Simultaneously, Fred and George both shouted, _"Petroficus Totalus!"_ while the other side cast silent spells of their own. They narrowly hit Fred in the chest, but George knocked him to the ground, much like Fred had done for him. However, unlike last time, they had nothing to hide behind, so when George knocked him out of the way, one of the men made ropes come out of nowhere and tie them up.

George's eyes were wide with fear as both gingers struggled against their bindings. Fred saw one man come quickly towards his brother, and he snarled furiously. With a yelp George was roughly yanked up by the hair and the man stuffed a gag into his mouth.

"No! Let him go!" Fred roared, struggling frantically. "George!" But the man merely pulled Fred into a sitting position and thrust him against the wall none too kindly.

"Let's take him out of here," one man said gruffly. George's fearful eyes met Fred's agonized ones. The man grabbed the back of George's robes and began to drag him towards the others. A choked sound made itself known as George fought for air.

"Stop!" Fred cried hysterically. "You're strangling him!"

George was writhed, fiercely trying to get himself free so he could breathe. It didn't last too long, but when the man finally released him at the others' feet, George coughed violently around the gag, taking quick, shaky breaths through his nose. Fred watched all the while with horror as the man cuffed him on the head rather harshly and snapped, "Shut up!"

George whimpered in pain. "Leave him alone!" Fred yelled desperately, kicking and twisting to try and get loose. "He didn't do anything! GEORGE!"

The three men ignored him. "We'll have to drag him a while away from Hogwarts," one of the men stated. "You can't apparate on the school's grounds."

A second man swore. "Damn Dumbledore and his rules. Fine, Lowrely, you take him."

The third, Lowrely, snatched the back of George's robes again. "Not like that, you idiot," the first snarled. "Do you want to kill him before we get there?"

At his words Fred let out a string of profanities, his skin burning from the robes from the extent of his struggling. "If you hurt him..." Fred growled menacingly, glaring at them with obvious hatred. The men merely smirked amusedly at the ginger. "You can't just barge in here, tie us up, and take my brother by force!"

"We can with the Minister's permission," Lowrely sneered. "And we're obligated to do whatever it takes should the accused resist - OW!" George, who had been fighting his restraints tirelessly, booted the man in the leg in his effort to escape. "Why you -" he swore, kicking him hard in the ribs. George grunted painfully.

_"Leave him alone!"_ Fred screamed. "Please!"

"Enough!" the second man said loudly. "I've had enough of this nonsense. Let's go." Lowrely gripped George's ropes this time, and in doing so jostled him in such a way that George's loud cry of pain could be heard even with the gag in his mouth.

"GEORGE!" Fred shrieked, agony and outrage lacing his tone. "You're hurting him! Let him go!" The twins locked gazes for all but a second before George was dragged out of sight.

But that only made Fred more panicked. He didn't know what they were going to do to him, and he didn't want to find out. He struggled ferociously, blind with fury and desperation. He could feel the bindings rub his wrists raw, but he paid it no attention, too overcome with emotions. And after what felt like years, the ropes suddenly disintigrated, covering Fred in ashes. He staggered shakily to his feet, dreadfully aware of the fact that if the ropes disintigrated, then the three men and George had apparated. And with a pang he realised that George did not remember ever apparating before or what apparating even was. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable feeling, and if it took you by surprise...and what if he was splinched?

But at his thoughts, he shook his head roughly, trying to think clearly. He couldn't dwell on the 'what-ifs,' no matter how worried he was. It would do no one any good in the long run. But Fred was no good with plans. He was more of a act now, consequences later kind of person. _George was always good at them,_ Fred thought sorrowfully, feeling pained at their separation. He needed George back. But how was he -?

A sudden thought struck him like lightning. _Lee! _Lee could help him! Lee was at least the next best thing! Knowing that Lee was at Hogsmeade, Fred sprinted hell bent into the frosty air.

* * *

><p>George now knew what it was like to be squeezed into something you were not meant to fit in. Not that he <em>ever<em> wanted to know, mind you. He vaguely remembered Fred disappearing when they were at their home and how he had called it Appar-something. But he couldn't recall it too well due to the lack of oxygen.

George's stomach heaved as he fell to the ground on his knees, gagging around the rag in his mouth and feeling the need to be violently sick. His ribs and his head were in terrible pain, but he tried not to show it.

"For Merlin's sake, Lowrely, can't you take the gag out of his mouth?" one man snapped, looking at George with disgust.

A pair of rough hands forced George's head back and pulled the rag out of his mouth. George gasped, panting heavily and feeling rather lightheaded. "Get up," a man growled, yanking an unsteady and weak George to his feet. George's head throbbed as the world spun, and it faintly registered in his brain that the bindings were coming off his body. _"Move!"_ the same man demanded harshly, shoving him forward. George fell to the ground on all fours, swearing under his breath.

"What the hell!" George barked, glowering up at them. "A simple 'please' goes a long way, you know." The men ignored him, but sent him a withering look.

George wished Fred was with him, but he knew deep down that no matter how much he wanted it, Fred _wasn't_ with him. And he probably wouldn't be for a while; he was on his own. But alone or not, he wasn't about to take their shit. "So this is standard protocol, eh?" George remarked dryly. "Tell me, in order to apply, do you have to enjoy beating people up, or does that just come with the job?"

"You need to learn some respect," Lowrely hissed. He brought his foot back to kick him, but a man grabbed his shoulder. "Leave him," he ordered. "If we give him to the court too badly injured, _we'll_ be the ones in trouble." To George, he said coldly, "Get up."

George grudgingly got to his feet. He wasn't about to let them drag him inside like he was a criminal. He winced as a sharp jolt of pain flashed through his side, and he doubled over a little as he clasped it. "Lowrely, I think you broke his rib," a man sighed, like the whole thing was an inconvenience to _him._ "Move, let me fix it." He pointed his wand at George's side, but he smacked it away. He wasn't going to receive any help from the likes of them. "Idiot," he snarled. "Have it your way. _Move."_

The ginger was again jostled forward, but he bit his cry of pain as he limped forward. He only prayed that it wasn't too far of a walk; he didn't know how far he could go before he collapsed.

And...and he just wanted Fred. He wanted Fred to comfort him and tell him that everything was going to be okay, even if they both knew it would not. He wanted Fred because Fred always knew how to make him smile, and protect him if he needed it. Though, half of the time Fred did so even when George didn't need it. And he didn't like being on his own. It hurt deep inside, just like it had when he was eight. He supposed it probably always would, because he and Fred were a packaged deal; you either got both or none at all.

But even so, he half wished Fred wouldn't show up so he couldn't get himself in trouble. And knowing Fred and his temper, especially when he was in mother-hen mode, would either get both of them thrown in jail or badly injured. Neither of which, George wanted. And if he had to sustain a broken rib and a few slaps to the face, then he wouldn't mind as long as Fred was alright.

George's train of thought ran off its track as his ragged breathing was starting to become painful. He stopped and leaned against the wall gingerly, barely noticing the men's annoyed grunts.

"Move, we're almost there," one of the men, George didn't know which, ordered exasperately, like George was being difficult on purpose.

"I'd like to see you walk with a broken rib," George retorted savegely.

"Well it wouldn't be broken if you had let me fix it," the man snapped.

"Right, like I'd let any of you come near me with a wand," George replied sarcastically, though the effect was ruined due to his voice hitching with pain.

"Either shut up and walk, or I'll drag you," Lowrely snarled. "And trust me, Weasley, you don't want me to drag you."

"Do I have to shut up if you drag me?" George asked with false sweetness. "Because I rather enjoy the talks we have."

"Get!" Lowrely barked, yanking George off of the wall and pushing him forcefully, causing him to stagger.

"Merlin, boy, you're asking for it," another man shook his head.

George wanted to say something else, but his side and his head was _really_ getting agonising, and he doubted if he could even speak if he had made an effort. He winced with every breath and every movement as he slowly continued forward. And at last, they reached the door the men apparently wanted.

He walked through the door without a word, looking up, and to his utter relief, Mr. Rikialria was waiting there, an anxious look on his face. "George," he said as soon as he saw him, and rushed forward to help him walk. "Are you alright?"

George said nothing, but gripped on to Mr. Rikialria's outstretched hand tightly. The Healer saw how he clutched his side, and his nostrils flared. "I trust you all had valid reasons for brutalising this young man?" he stated coldly, looking at each one of them with contempt.

"He was resisting arrest," Lowrely said with an air of superiority.

"So much so that you had to break his rib and make him walk the whole way?" Mr. Rikialria demanded sternly, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Enough," came a loud voice George had never heard before. It was only then that George really took a look around as the Healer helped him gently to a chair in the middle of the room. They were in a large room that had a low wall circling the floor. Behind the wall were rows of seats, some of which were filled, and a podium where a man stood. "Now, to go over everything for the now present accused, we have intel from an anonymous person who claimed that a Mr. George Fabian Weasley was unstable due to a certain...Bludger accident? We have already heard the prosecution even though the accused was late to the trial. Now, I do not intend on spending all night going over this, so I trust that you, Mr. Franklin Rikialria had sufficient evidence to prove otherwise? Because if not, I will have to rule in favour of the prosecution."

"Yes," Mr. Rikialria said confidently. "I am George's Healer. It is true that he sustained a head injury that caused him to lose his memory, but he is in no way violent. His loss of memory was due to the swelling of the brain that should have killed him, but it did not affect him in anyway that could cause him to be volatile. He suffers every few weeks in our attempt to bring his memory back, and I have yet to see any change in behaviour! I can do a test for you all right now, if you so wish! But I think as we see him now, that it is clear that he is acting no different then anyone else!

"Not to mention the fact that he had been brought in with unneeded force!" Everyone stared at George's hunched over form. Surely you won't allow this kind of brutality to go unpunished? They broke his rib for God's sake!"

The man sifted through some papers. Despite what was being said, he hardly seemed like he cared about the case, which could be either a really good thing, or a really bad thing. "Is that all?" Mr. Rikialria hesitated before nodding. "Very well. We shall take a short recess before -"

"GEORGE!"

The ginger whipped his head around to find Fred sprinting over towards him, eyes wild and fiery. Lee, huffing and puffing, looked a little confused as he followed. George lit up like fireworks. He wished he could speak, but he couldn't find the strength to do so. Fred nearly knocked him out of his chair when he reached him, a dry sob emitting from his throat. "Georgie...oh thank God. Are you okay?"

"Who is this young man?" came the startled voice of the man at the podium.

George hesitated before nodding mutely, but his silence only worried Fred more. But before he could say anything, Lee came bustling up to him and hugged him. "Blimely, mate, you nearly scared the knickers off of both of us! Are you okay?"

Again, George nodded, but said nothing. His pained expression said it all. Fred ran his fingers through George's hair, trying to soothe him.

George appreciated this, but how on earth had Fred and Lee found him? Surely they couldn't leave Hogwarts grounds?

"We contacted Mr. Rikialria," Lee whispered to George's confused look. "Dumbledore allowed us to come just now."

"Excuse me," the man at the podium said a bit more sternly this time. "Who are you two?"

"I'm his brother," Fred said defiantly, his grip on George tightening. "And this is our friend, Lee."

"Whether you're related to Mr. Weasley or not is besides the point!" the man said fierely. "You two are not permitted -"

"If I may interupt?" Mr. Rikialria said calmly. "Wwe are taking a short recess, are we not? Surely you can allow them to stay?"

The man sighed angrily. "Fine. We'll return in ten minutes!" He grabbed his things and stormed away, leaving the room.

Fred crouched down in front of his twin, putting both hands on either side of George's face. He stared with thinly veiled anxiety as he gazed into George's eyes. "What's wrong?" he whispered, his voice catching. "What happened? Why won't you talk?"

"Here," Mr. Rikialria said gently, nudging Fred aside. He pointed his wand at George's side and muttered something under his breath. Instantly, the ginger could feel his bones stitching themselves together. It burned slightly, not like when he had broken his arm, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief coursing through him as the burning subsided. He gasped, finally able to breathe fully, and he collapsed into Fred, who held him upright.

Fred buried his face into George's hair, comforted by George's presence and knowing that he was alright. "Is he going to be okay?" he asked the Healer quietly, looking up at him.

"I should think so," he replied. But then he sighed sadly. "I've never seen so many things happen to one person in my life."

George finally chuckled, startling everyone. "You should meet our friend Harry," he said hoarsely.

Lee and Fred laughed with him, while it dawned on Mr. Rikialria who they were talking about. "Not...not Harry _Potter?"_

"Do you know any other Harry with terrible luck?" Lee asked amusedly.

George leaned back into the chair, his eyes falling immediately on those who failed to leave. He tensed, a glower forming on his face. Both Fred and Lee whipped around to see the three men who had taken George from the school.

Growls ripped from Fred's throat as he stood, placing himself in front of his twin. _"You,"_ he snarled, clenching his fists. Fred lunged himself at them, but Mr. Rikialria caught him around the middle. Fred elbowed him in the stomach and stomped on his foot in his effort to get away, and he might've if Lee hadn't gone against his anger and decided to help.

The three men stood there as if bored, smirking. George's wand sparked in fury, and Fred threw some choiced words at them as he nearly flattened Lee and the Healer to the ground. "Stop, Fred!" Lee ordered, though grudgingly. "The guy, whoever the hell he is, will be back soon! Do you want George to be put away because you punched his lackies?"

That struck a cord in Fred, who shoved the two people off of him and went back to George. He resumed smoothing his brother's hair as he glared with all his might at the three men. "You're okay, Georgie," he murmured, leaning down to kiss the crown of his head.

"Alright, alright everyone, settle down," the man grumbled as he appeared suddenly behind the podium. "Let's just get this over with."

"Not very official, is he?" Lee muttered in Fred's ear. The ginger couldn't help but agree. He'd never seen someone who went so against how the system usually would work. He only hoped it would work in their favour.

"All in favour of conviction?" he said loudly. A few people raised their hands. "All in favour of release?" The majority of the people raised their hands. "Mr. Weasley, you can go," he said as he slammed his gaval on the podium, signaling the end of the 'trial.'

An explosion went off in Fred's mind as he grinned fiercely down at George, who beamed up at him in return. Lee ruffled George's hair ecstatically, and Mr. Rikialria looked quite accomplished.

"Let's go back to the castle," Lee said happily.

"Yeah," Fred replied with a maniac glint in his eyes. "So I can _murder_ Malfoy."

* * *

><p>Review please! :)<p> 


	23. Brother to Brother

**Author's Note: **Ah! Sorry this is a bit of a late update, things have been pretty hectic! It's made my writing time depressingly limited :P But a huge thank you to **EricaX**, ******ravenlovestwilight******,******stargirlak******,**********93 Diagon Alley******,******Aris1013******, ********hachoo********, and **DisgracedxMia** for reviewing! :D It makes my day when people review :D

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of Harry Potter.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Brother to Brother**

_'There will always be more,  
>To bring us together than to ever,<br>Keep us apart.  
>As long as we stand brother to brother.'<br>_**~ 'Brother to Brother,' Van Zant**

Fred nearly bit Mr. Rikialria's hand off when he offered to apparate George back to Hogwarts himself. He was grateful to him, there was no doubt about that, but if the Healer so much as thought that Fred was going to part from George now, he was sorely wrong.

The ginger never let George step out of physical contact range as they made their way out of the Ministry so they could apparate back to Hogwarts. Not that George wanted to or tried to. He seemed just as bent on making sure that Fred never went too far as his brother did. The separation scared him, and the look Fred saw on his face was something he'd never seen before. It was an odd look, one the older twin couldn't quite place, and he didn't like it.

Fred, himself, still looked half-crazed, and none of them would put it past him to actually murder Malfoy once he saw him. That little sneaky, cowardly _bastard_ was going to get what had been coming to him for a long time.

However, the thought only left his mind the minute he extended his arm for George to grab on to once they got outside of the Ministry. George looked dazed. He stared forward, lost in his own world. Fred's eyebrows knitted together in concern. "George?"

George didn't seem to have heard him. Mr. Rikialria stepped forward as if to shake George into reality himself, but Fred shook his head in warning. "You two go on ahead." His tone left no room for discussion.

Lee and Mr. Rikialria hesitated, but after seeing Fred's hard look, complied. Fred waited until after they apparated before he shook George's shoulder gently. "Georgie?" The younger twin jumped. "What's wrong?"

George felt like laughing. A crazed, half-sob kind of laugh that only popped out when you weren't in your right mind. _What's wrong, you ask? What's wrong? _But before he could stop himself, his face crumpled and he launched himself at Fred. A completely bewildered Fred caught him in his arms and was even more startled to feel tears soak through his shirt and sobs pounding on his ear drums. "Georgie, what's wrong?" Fred asked desperately.

George said nothing but continued to weep into Fred's shoulder. He couldn't quite explain it. While he had seemed simply bored when he was dealing with the three men, as soon as he saw Fred did the realisation of just how terrifying it truly was to be separated from his brother begin to build within him. He had been unable to retreat to his comfort zone...to Fred...when he needed it. He had been taken away from the only source of protection, of warmth, and of happiness he had ever remembered knowing. If Fred wasn't around, then what would be left of him? It was so easy for fate to just force them apart, even when they tried to cling to one another as best as they could. What if next time Fred wouldn't be able to save him? What if next time, it was Fred being taken away from _him?_ What if he never got him back?

He barely recognised Fred half-carrying him somewhere, but before it could fully register in his mind, the ginger was slowly setting themselves on the ground against what he presumed was a wall. He hugged George to him, rocking their bodies ever so slightly back and forth. "Shhh," Fred murmured in an undertone, rubbing small circles on his brother's back to try and calm him down. He didn't know what was wrong, but every time George cried, he felt like he just sat down for a test he hadn't studied for. Even though George was normally more of a crier than Fred was, he was never good with his twin's tears. He became frantic, trying every possible option to try and make George smile again. And he knew from experience that it was the exact same on the opposite end. Sometimes, George was even worse, risking life and limb to try and make Fred feel better.

"Georgie, tell me what's wrong," Fred nearly begged, unable to stand the sound of his twin's whimpers anymore.

Fred began petting George's hair softly as the ginger ducked his head into the crook of Fred's neck. George eventually mumbled quietly, "I don't...I don't like being alone."

Fred's heart clenched. "You won't be, Georgiekins," he told him reassuringly. It was weird in a way, because normally it was George trying to convince Fred not to worry about such things.

"But today -"

"I came after you," Fred said gently. "And you know I will no matter what happens."

"It's not me I'm afraid for," George murmured so low that Fred almost didn't hear him. Almost.

"I'm not going anywhere, Georgie," Fred replied kindly, feeling touched. "And I know you'd do your best if something does happen." George nodded vigorously. "So no more waterworks," Fred smiled, ruffling his twin's hair.

George gave a watery laugh, smacking Fred's hand away as he began to get to his feet. Though he cringed and staggered due to his now slightly bruised ribs. Fred caught him, his eyes flashing dangerously. He had momentarily forgotten about where they were and why. But the most important thing right now was George. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

"M'fine," he mumbled, his hands going subconsciously to his side.

Fred's hand travelled to where George's was, lifting his shirt enough to peek at how bad the bruise was. He grimaced. "Ouch."

George shrugged and gave a crooked smile. "S'okay, I suppose. Better than a broken rib, anyways."

"Do you think you'll be able to apparate with me?" Fred asked, frowning with concern.

"Erm," George remarked indecisively, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I guess."

Fred squeezed George's shoulder sympathetically. "I'm sorry," he replied sincerely. "It's not exactly the most pleasant thing in the world."

George smirked. "You can say that again." Fred held his arm out for George to grab, and at his twin's touch, the two disapparated with a 'pop.'

* * *

><p>They landed a little ways away from the castle, but as soon as they did, George toppled into Fred. The ginger reacted quickly, grabbing him before either of them fell to the ground. But George barely noticed as the pain in his head swelled furiously, leaving his ribs in the dust as merely a dull throb.<p>

Fred held him upright, whispering words of comfort as George waited to the pain to go away. It was slow and rather annoying, but eventually George was able to stand shakily on his feet. "Merlin's beard," he groaned, kneading his forehead.

Fred peered into George's eyes anxiously. "Georgie? Are you okay?"

George managed a small smile and nodded, looking around. "Where are we?"

"Just outside Hogsmeade," Fred replied, keeping his eyes trained on George and holding himself as if he was prepared to catch him at any moment should he fall. "It's not too far away. Are you okay to walk?"

George nodded again, and they started off. As they passed through Hogsmeade, they found that most people had gone back to Hogwarts by now. Those who had stayed, however, looked at the twins in confusion as if wondering where on earth they had come from. And by the time they got back within the grounds, George found it a little painful to move. You never really realise how much your torso is involved with walking until something is wrong with it.

"As soon as we get back to the dormitory, you're going to go right up to bed and staying there for the rest of the day," Fred ordered firmly, seeing George's slight cringe. "Maybe the entire weekend."

"But what about the swamp -?" George began to protest.

"We can still go over it, I'll just be the one actually moving," Fred replied with an air of finality. George knew it would be pointless to argue; Fred would tie him down if he had to. Though, perhaps due to recent events, Fred would simply hold him down himself instead of using binds.

George, however, was worried. Fred sounded...off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it was almost like he was distracted by some other thought. "Fred?"

"Yeah?" Fred said absent-mindly as they started up the stairs. He kept looking all around him, like he was looking for something. Or someone.

George stopped, causing Fred to focus on him alone. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Fred replied, feigning confusion.

His twin scrutinised him suspiciously. "What are you planning?"

Fred fidgeted. "Nothing." George looked hurt that he wouldn't tell him, and Fred's resistance crumbled immediately. "I'm looking for Malfoy," he ended up confessing.

There was a distinct hardening of George's features as the name was said and an angry glint in his eyes, but he stated regardless, "Fred, leave it. He's not worth it."

"He's hurt you too many times," Fred growled. "I almost lost you too many times because of him. He is going to wish he was never born if I have _anything_ to say about it!"

George smiled softly at Fred's care, and truth be told he _was_ furious with Malfoy for hurting, not only him, but Fred. But he didn't want Fred to leave him. He didn't want Fred to get himself hurt. "Freddie, Malfoy will have people with him," George reasoned almost desperately. "You can't take on five people at a time!"

"So I'll get Lee or someone," Fred shrugged, not seeing George's point.

"But I..." George didn't know what else to say. He just didn't want Fred to leave him. His shoulders slumped and he continued up the stairs without another word.

Fred started after him in concern, wondering what on earth was making him so upset. "George, what is it? You can't say you don't want Malfoy to suffer."

George didn't want to say it again, but simply implored Fred to understand with his eyes. And suddenly it clicked. Fred frowned unhappily, outraged with himself. He couldn't believe he forgot; they just had a conversation on it! "George, I'm sorry," Fred said softly, giving him a one-armed hug. "I won't leave you alone. But we _are_ making sure Malfoy pays for what he's done."

George nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed with himself, but Fred gave him an understanding smile. "I don't want to be alone either," he told him reassuringly. He wanted George to be with him as much as George wanted Fred to be with him. "But first thing's first," he continued in a business-like tone. "You are getting in bed and not coming out. I'll get Lee to bring us up food."

The ginger smirked and sighed as if it were a great inconvenience. "Oh if I must."

Fred smacked him on the arm. "Just walk, you tosser."

George sniggered but did as he was told. And he had to say, when he got up to his bed he was extremely happy to lie down. As soon as he snuggled under the covers of their bed, he almost immediately fell asleep.

Fred gave him a fond smile, fussing with his blankets for no other reason than to give him an excuse to stay. And when that was done, he gave up on reasons and just sat down on an empty bed and watched him. He didn't know why he felt the need to, but he did. It was nice to just take a moment and have George to himself. There was no other people, no noise. Just the gentle, deep breathing of his twin. In fact, watching him sleep was making _him_ sleepy. So with a yawn, Fred crawled into bed beside his twin and fell asleep almost as fast.

* * *

><p>George couldn't remember sleeping so well.<p>

He woke up very relaxed, so relaxed his mind was utterly silent, and with a content and restful expression on his face. He could tell that the sun was setting from the window as they hadn't bothered to pull the blinds around the bed. However, when he rolled over and bumped into a still unconscious Fred, he jumped a bit in shock. He sat up and stretched, rubbing his eyes before he glanced down at his brother and smiled affectionately.

Fred's mouth was lolling open and his face was buried in his pillow. His feet were sticking out at the bottom and he shivered slightly in his sleep. George gently rolled out of bed and went around to Fred's side, gingerly tucking the blankets around him so he would be warm. He could feel his stomach grumble, but for reasons he didn't quite understand, he just wanted to watch Fred sleep. It was the time in their day where everything slowed down. And there was no denying that Fred was the most entertaining person to watch while they slept. But he just wanted to have Fred to himself, while he had the chance. He never thought one person could mean so much to him, but then again, they _were_ twins. Apparently, twins always had a deeper connection and were closer than close. And this held true to them, there was doubt about that.

George's head throbbed, reminding him bitterly of the reason why all of the bad things happened to him. It was why he couldn't remember Fred, his family, magic, anything. The only thing he had been able to do was talk, which he thanked Merlin for. How embarrassing would that be? But out of all of the things, you'd think Fred would have slipped through. _Damn Malfoy,_ he cursed in his head. He agreed with Fred; Malfoy needed to pay for the pain he'd caused the two of them. He just...he wasn't ready to be separated from Fred yet. It was part of the reason why he didn't go get something to eat. And he couldn't wake him up, because he looked so peaceful for once.

But really, he didn't mind waiting. He knew Fred always liked to watch over him, but for once George was able to return the favour. George wanted to make sure that Fred was really there, and wasn't about to be taken away from him or vice versa.

However, even as he thought, he heard Fred murmur something and become restless, signs that he was beginning to awake. His twin's hands flew up to rub at his eyes before he peered blearily up at George, who was smirking amusedly at him. "G'morning," Fred yawned.

George chuckled. "Good _evening_ to you too."

"Hmm?" Fred hummed, confused, before his memory began to come back. "Oh, right." He sat up and stretched, his ginger hair sticking up everywhere. George figured his probably was too. "What time is it?"

George shrugged. "Past sunset, that's all I know."

"Are you hungry?" George nodded. In fact, now that he thought about it, he didn't think he ate at all today. "C'mon, let's go to the kitchen. We missed dinner, but we can eat there." George was happy that Fred seemed to forget his threat of making him stay in bed all day.

As they were leaving the Common room, they bumped into a pale looking Harry. "Oh, hey Harry," Fred greeted.

Harry gave a wan smile. "Hey guys. Where were you two today? Everyone's been asking if you just left school."

"We...erm, were occupied," George said evasively, glancing at Fred.

"Just do us a favour, okay?" Fred began, leaning closer to Harry. "If you see Malfoy, don't hesitate to beat the crap out of him. Tell everyone, too, if you can."

Harry looked a tad confused. "What'd he do this time?"

"He made us occupied," George explained shortly.

"Ah," Harry remarked, knowing whatever Malfoy did pissed the twins off. "Will do," he grinned.

"Thanks, mate," Fred winked, leading George out of the door.

"I really hope he does it," George said excitedly.

"He will," Fred replied knowingly. "He hates Malfoy too." Fred's eyes flashed dangerously, though, as he continued, "If that bastard wants a battle, we're going to give him a war."

The two of them marched forward down the familiar path to the kitchens. This time, Fred granted George the honour of tickling the peach, which he found quite hysterical. The younger twin couldn't stop laughing at both the strangeness of tickling a picture, or the fact that he made it giggle. Fred beamed as they walked into the kitchens, anticipating their reactions.

"Messers Weasley!" they all cried, a bunch of little house-elves bumping into the ginger's knees in their excitement.

Fred instantly spotted Nelly and waved her forward with a call of her name. She squeaked and fell over before springing back up and nearly flattening all the other elves. "Sir was pointing to me?" she asked in awe.

George grinned. "Of course! We were hoping we could get something to eat? We missed dinner."

A few house-elves gasped in horror. "Missing dinner?" Nelly frowned quite spectacularly. "Sirs must be starving! What would the Sirs be liking?"

"Hmm," Fred pondered, glancing at George, who shrugged. "A bit of everything, I suppose."

There were shouts of delight as they all scrambled to fill their order. Nelly took George, who was closer, by the fabric covering his knee and tugged gently to get his attention. "Would the Sirs be following me, please?"

"Of course, Nelly," Fred replied, causing her to beam at him. She led them to the same table that George had first sat at, and assured them that the food would be there right away.

"How much food do you reckon they'll bring?" George asked amusedly.

Fred's eyes danced with mirth. "Probably enough to fill ten of us," he chortled.

"I love house-elves,"George sighed dreamily.

But suddenly Fred smacked himself on the forehead. "I can't believe I forgot!" he exclaimed.

"What?"

"We have those golden Galleons, don't we?"

George raised an eyebrow. "Erm, yes, Galleons tend to be gold..."

Fred waved his hand. "No, no, I mean the ones for the DA. We can just check them for when the next meeting is instead of guessing."

George smacked himself too. "Of course! That's why Hermione gave us them. How did we not think of that before?"

"I think we had more important things to do," Fred rolled his eyes.

But before they could say any more, Nelly and a group of about fifty elves came bustling into the room carrying trays and trays of food. Both twin's eyes went wide as they grinned at each other.

Yeah. They loved house-elves.

* * *

><p>Review please and thank you :)<p> 


	24. Timebomb

**Author's Note: **Thank you so so so so much to , **ForgeandGred7**, **EricaX**, **DisgracedxMia**, **93 Diagon Alley**, **Aris1013**, **hachoo**, **chocolateMnMs**, **Moonlight900**, **Bookwormie**, and an **Anonymous reviewer** for your reviews! I do take everything that is being said into consideration, and I agree with you (Anonymous reviewer), guys this age 99% of the time are not this mushy :P but I have this odd fascination with it because you don't really see anything kind of like this in the books, so I'm just mostly getting this off my chest :P But I hope you can enjoy it otherwise :) And if not, well, thank you for giving it a chance anyways :)

And sorry about the late-ish update, writer's block will do that to you :/ Oh yeah, and homework-happy teachers.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but this story :)

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Timebomb**

_'It was like a timebomb, set it in motion,  
>We were only destined to explode.<br>And if I had to pull you out of the wreckage,  
>You know I'm never going to let you go.'<br>_**~ 'Timebomb,' All Time Low**

"I can't believe how much I forgot," George commented in surprise as the twins walked back to the dormitory, giving his wand an accusitary look. They had just finished their first DA meeting in a long time, and the entire time Harry had to reteach him nearly everything.

"Well, to be fair, you do have a pretty good excuse," Fred commented in an off-handed way. This particular DA experience had been...interesting. He was a little ashamed to admit that he was severely annoyed with the concept of someone else teaching George how to do magic. Sure, it was fine _before_ they found out what was truly wrong with his twin and before he nearly died several times. But now..._after_ the fact...it bugged him. Fred didn't like George depending on anyone else and he didn't like that he didn't play a role in that little scenario. He didn't like that George had looked to Harry to see if he had done him proud whenever he did a spell. That was _his_ job! He thought he hid it pretty well, though, if he did say so himself. But everytime neither of them was looking, he would scowl behind their backs and glare at the floor. He even almost bit Harry's head off when he suggested that Fred go join another group to practise the Bat-Bogey Hex.

Well...okay, maybe he _hadn't_ hidden it so well.

But he was always one to let everyone know exactly how he was feeling, and if he was irritated...well, you'd know. Fred was sure George knew why he was put out, if the amused looks were any indication. But he could also tell that George was touched, so he didn't rag on him about it. He didn't even mention it, much to Fred's relief.

George snorted. "I guess. But if that can make me forget them, then that's not good," he frowned.

"Well, how many more incidents are you anticipating?" Fred smirked.

But George wore a serious expression. "If Harry's going to battle You-Know-Who, I'm anticipating at least one."

Fred froze, grabbing on to George's arm. "But that...I...you..." he stammered, eyes wide.

George shook his head. "But that's not going to happen for a while, right? I mean, Harry will have to finish school first. What's You-Know-Who going to do, anyway? Burst through the doors and ask Dumbledore where he is?" Fred gave a weak chuckle. "No, so...we still have a while yet to cross that bridge...right?" George looked to Fred with fear, not for himself, but for his twin's well-being. And the twin knew that he was silently pleading with Fred to confirm his theory, so he could stop worrying himself.

Fred smiled gently, giving his brother's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Right," he said confidently. "So why don't we just forget about it, and go finish that swamp for Grawp, eh?"

"We still have to get the ginger roots, you know," he laughed.

Fred sighed dramatically. "Ah yes. The ginger roots you forgot."

George smacked him on the arm. _"You_ forgot them, you prat!" he scolded playfully to Fred's huge grin.

Fred's eyes twinkled with mirth and mischief. "Care to pay a little visit to Snape's secret storage?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

George mock gasped. "Steal from our favourite professor? Fred, you animal!"

Fred chuckled. "I know, it's so unlike me." Beaming, the two of them saunteered off to Snape's storage, knowing from experience that he was never there at this time. They also knew all of the protective charms he put on it (thanks to the Disillusion charm and an evening well spent sneaking around), so there was no problem getting in and out with fair haste.

The younger twin stalked ahead, peering around the corner to make sure that no one was there. And just to make sure that there was no one around the corner, Fred handed him one of their earlier inventions. It was a stagnat little blue bird that Fred tapped with his wand and murmured, _"Aliquam Viverra."_

The little bird sprang to life and silently fluttered in his hands. It took one look at George and then to Fred, nodded, and took flight so silently that even though they knew what was happening, they didn't hear a sound. A few moments later as they waited behind the wall, the bird flew back and landed back in George's hands. It did nothing more but look at them. If there had been anyone present within fifty feet of them, the bird would have turned red as soon as it landed in the owner's hands. _"Requiem,"_ Fred tapped the bird with an air of satisfaction. It ruffled its feathers and turned utterly motionless and hard once more.

"Okay, that's cool," George had to whisper in awe. "We're awesome."

Fred grinned. "Too right you are. C'mon, let's go." The pair of them walked down the hallway and to the hidden storage, where they dismantled with ease the protective charms. Really, you'd think after a while Snape would change those. George offered to get the ginger roots while Fred let the bird loose again to check for people.

"Bloody hell," George grumbled from inside the storage.

"What is it?" Fred called as the bird came back with a negative once more.

"The great git must've put the roots up top; they're not on any of the lower shelves."

"Well, then just summon it."

"And what happens if it's at the back?" George replied in a slightly exasperated tone. "I doubt Snape made sure the jars were unbreakable or something. That way he could tell right away if he was stolen from."

"That'd be stupid, though, what if he drops it himself?"

"He's not you, Fred," George remarked in a slightly amused voice. "He may be a greasy prat, but he's not clumsy. Do you know how many times he would have killed himself if he were careless and dropped deadly ingredients?"

Fred had no reply. He smiled broadly; this was why he had George around. "Ah, Georgie, _there's_ that smart arse quality I've grown to love." He heard his twin snort from inside, and that only made his grin widen. "You need help?"

"Well, it wouldn't hinder anything, that's for sure."

The older twin sent the bird out once more before he crept inside and saw George frowning up at the billions of shelves above him. "Hmmm..." Fred sounded, imitating George's pose. Until a lightbulb went off in his mind. "Aha!" he cried, causing George to jump. _"Invenire_ ginger roots," he said, and both watched as a light went off about ten feet above them.

"Great! Now the problem is, how do we get it? Because you see, it's surrounded by other...what the bloody hell _is_ that, a tongue?"

Fred squinted. "No..." he said slowly, drawing the word out unsurely at first. "I think it's a -"

"Nevermind!" George interupted, looking disgusted. "Just...how do we get it O Master of Spells?"

Fred smirked. "Maybe I should teach you instead of Harry." He tried to keep all sounds of hope out of his voice, but he could tell by the playful twinkle in George's eyes that he wasn't entirely successful.

"Hmm, I don't know," George said in a mock thoughtful voice, tapping his chin with his index finger. "Defeater of Voldemort...Finder of ginger roots..." he moved his hands up and down like a scale contemplatively.

Mock pouting, Fred slapped his brother on the arm. "Prat," he muttered. The little bird came fluttering in and landed in Fred's hand. It remained blue.

"Wait," George said suddenly, staring at the bird. "Can you make the bird get the jar for us? I mean, it's agile, silent, careful...it'd be perfect!"

Fred's face lit up with excitement. "Of course!" He clapped his brother on the shoulder. He pointed his wand at the serene bird, but then paused. "Erm..." He started to pace the storage room before he froze and directed his wand towards the bird again. _"Recupero_ ginger roots." The bird looked Fred in the eye and stayed still for so long that the two of them thought it hadn't worked, until it took to the air.

George looked extremely impressed. "Where'd you learn that?"

Fred grinned mischievously. "I made it up."

The younger twin roared with laughter. "Have I ever mentioned that you're an absolute master mind?"

Fred couldn't help but feel himself swell at the compliment. He was about to reply when he, either by luck or superior instincts (take your pick), happened to realise that the jar of ginger roots was falling towards their heads at an alarming rate. "DUCK!" he shouted, forcing George's head down while he reached his hand up to catch it just before it made contact with the two of them. Fred gave a sigh of relief before he gave the bird fluttering happily above them a disdained look. "I got it."

"Great," George groaned, straightening up and wincing as he rubbed his neck. "Next time, a simple nudge to the shoulder would be nice."

"Sorry," Fred apologised sincerely. "We can fix the bird later."

"S'okay," George shrugged. "I may not be able to turn my neck for a week, but I'll live," he replied with a slightly teasing tone.

Fred grimaced as he pointed his wand to the bird and summoned it to his hand, where he taped it and it froze. "Let's just get out of here before the bat decides to show up."

The twins left the storage room and replaced all of the enchantments that they had found on it. Fred had stuffed the jar in his robes and the two walked casually down the hallway like nothing had ever happened. It was a distinct talent of there's.

And it was only until they got back up to their Common room and up to their rooms that George suddenly asked, "Oi, Fred, you don't reckon we'll have to start all over since it's, you know, been sitting for a few days? Because that would really suck if we have to go back there."

Fred frowned. "Huh. I dunno, I mean, it _is_ a swamp, right? It's not supposed to be 'fresh,' but I don't know if that affects it. Sometimes potions need to sit for a while, but some need to be made right then and there with no pauses."

"So...you have no idea."

"None whatsoever."

George threw up his hands in mock exasperation. "Well you could've just said that!"

"Well excuse me, Mr. Impatient," Fred rolled his eyes and smirked. "C'mon. We can just try to continue it, and if that doesn't work we can start over."

"And if that doesn't work?" George inquired.

Fred shrugged. "Well, we'll have a lot of experimenting to do."

"Well then," George said dramatically, bowing and his left arm extended in the direction of the cauldron. "Lead the way dear brother."

Fred chuckled and walked over, pulling the shrunken cauldron from underneath the bed and enlarging it to normal size. His face morphed into a grimace as he remakred, "At least it smells like a swamp."

George wrinkled his nose at the awful smell, his own face contorting into an expression of disgust. "So that's what a swamp smells like."

"Lovely, isn't it?"

George snorted. "If you say so. Hand me that potions book, will ya?"

"Oh, George, we don't need that!" Fred declared stubbornly, waving his hand. "I know what I'm doing. I do!" he insisted at George's raised eyebrows.

"If I recall correctly from what Lee told me, the last time you said that we walked around with no eyebrows for a month," George remarked dryly.

"Oh yeah," Fred grinned, looking at George with a twinkle in his eyes. "That was hilarious."

"I'm getting the book."

"C'mon George!" Fred whined. "Trust me!"

"How about you decide what to do, and I'll just double check?" George suggested.

"That's still the same thing," Fred grumbled.

George threw his hands up in defeat. "Oh fine you big baby. Do what you want."

Fred pumped his hand in the air with triumph and dove into their supply of ingredients. George sat down with a huff, crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side to gauge the ingredients contemplatively. Fred lit a fire underneath the cauldron and grabbed the ginger roots, making to throw them in. "Unless I'm mistaken," George piped up, sounding as though he were sure that he wasn't. "We were on the horned slugs, not the ginger roots yet."

The other twin stopped short, looking like he was straining his memory to recall if that were true. "Oh yeah...you're right."

"Mhmm," George replied with a satisfied smirk. "When am I ever not?"

"Oh shut it, you," Fred replied absent-mindly as he carefully added in the slugs. The bubbling mass turned a deep blue.

"Are swamps usually blue?" George asked.

Fred frowned. "No...not really...ah well, we're not done yet." He picked up the ginger roots and gave them to George. "Here, you put them in while I cut up the frog spawn."

George saluted and did as he was told as Fred chuckled. "So what goes after frog spawn?"

"Well, it's between the willow bark and the gurdyroots, so...I'm thinking gurdyroots first."

"And why would that be?" George asked.

Fred merely shrugged. "'G' comes before 'W'?"

"We're doomed."

"Oh just get to work, you tosser."

The two of them spent the next half an hour debating over which ingredients to add and in what order, and at one point, ducking for cover under the beds when the potion decided to try to drench them in its contents. But finally, Fred declared their potion finished. Whether it worked was a different story, so they just decided to let it sit, cross their fingers and hope for the best. If it didn't kill anyone by nightfall, then they'd at least declare it a partial success.

"Wow, we made a mess," George observed as Fred began to clear up puddles of spilled what-they-hoped-would-be-a-swamp.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Fred grinned, seeming quite pleased. He peered into the cauldron. "Hmm...I reckon we should leave it over night, it doesn't look much like a swamp just yet. But hey, if this swamp doesn't work, what do you say to taking it and dumping it on Malfoy?"

"If we can find the snake," George grumbled. "Don't you find it odd that we haven't seen him yet?"

"Probably because he knows he wouldn't be alive if we saw him," Fred responded with harshness that wasn't directed at George. "We will get him no matter what it takes, I promise you that."

"We have a few months yet," George reasoned, though his eyes were hard. "We'll find him, and when we do..." he trailed off threateningly.

"We could get look-outs," Fred said thoughtfully, an evil glint to his eyes. "Perhaps Harry and Ron...Hermione probably wouldn't...and Lee, Angelina, Katie -"

"Someone say my name?" came a familiar voice from behind them.

"Lee!" Fred cried as the two turned around to see him leaning against the doorway. "Just the man we were looking for!"

"I don't like the sound of that..."

George waved his hand in an off-hand way. "Oh don't flatter yourself, Lee," he grinned impishly. "We weren't planning anything against you."

Lee raised his eyebrows, "You know I love you guys, but you're more untrustworthy than I am, so..."

Fred rolled his eyes. "We just want you to keep a look out for Malfoy. Tell whoever you can to do the same, too." He looked at George and Lee determindly. "He's not going to escape us this time."

* * *

><p>George lay with his hands tucked behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He'd awoken for no apparent reason to find Fred snoring lightly and using his shoulder as a pillow, drooling all over it. George smirked. This wasn't the first time he awoke to find Fred slobbering all over him. It was really quite amusing. They'd both fall asleep on separate pillows, but somehow Fred managed to migrate himself over to rest on some part of George's body. His favourite one was where he woke up to find Fred lying horizontal along the bed, sprawled eagle all over George's mid-section and in danger of falling off George's side of the bed. The ginger had to restrain himself from bursting out laughing, but it was hard. And before Fred woke up, the younger twin would always clear up the drool using the handy <em>Scourgify<em> spell to spare him the embarrassment.

However, the part that bothered George was that sometimes Fred would murmur, _'Obliviate,'_ in his sleep as he cuddled up to George. He had asked Harry what the spell was for after the first time it was used, and he told him it was a memory erasing spell. This troubled him, because Fred would mumble it like he was hoping it would make him forget something. Or a lot of somethings. And George had a pretty good idea what those somethings were.

He wished the fact that he had nearly died almost as many times as Harry didn't bother Fred so much. Not that he expected it not to, but he didn't like that it tormented him even in sleep. George grimaced at the thought, wondering if maybe he _should_ use the spell on him. But he would never; he knew what it was like to lose your memories, and he wouldn't ever do it to anyone. Well, maybe Malfoy.

And he was another thing. That stupid git had nearly killed them. Not just George, _them._ Fred and George were halves of one person, and if you were to take one away from the other...well, you might as well have killed them both.

They had to figure out what they would do with him when they found him, though. The two were so focused on uncovering the little bugger that they hadn't really given much thought as to what they would actually _do_ when they caught him. Which, you know, might be a good thing to think about since they wouldn't exactly have all day to think about it when they did get a hold of him.

Fred muttered something incoherent as he moved methodically and almost purposely on to George's blanketed rib cage, burying his face into the covers and continuing his steady snoring. George grinned and shook his head at his brother. They had long ago stopped pulling the drapes around their bed (not that they did it much anyway), and everytime Lee got his nightly glass of water, he'd share an amused grin with George before he went back to bed at the sight of Fred on top of his twin. It was a secret only the two of them shared, since Fred was completely oblivious to his movements during the night; somehow he rolled off of him in time for them to wake up. But to be honest, George didn't mind, despite the drool. He was comforted by Fred's presence, and he was pretty sure that if Fred didn't roll over to him first, he would do it in turn. But Fred was always quicker to fall asleep, and therefore quicker to move over.

George, meanwhile, felt wide awake now for some reason, and he was clueless as to what to do.

Until he heard a tap at their window.

George jumped, nearly dislodging his twin from his chest. Heart hammering from the surprise, he was curious to know what that was. But, figuring that it could've been a branch or bird of some sort, he did nothing. Until the tapping became more insistent.

He heard the ruffle of blankets that he could only assume was Lee, and sure enough the lad came within view with his hair tussled and an exhausted yet confused expression on his face. George motioned for him to help move Fred off of him so he could go check with him.

It took some doing, but Lee and George managed to roll the ginger off of his twin and deposit him on the other side of the bed, still dead to the world. George rolled over and off the bed and staggered to his feet, sharing an identical look of exasperation with Lee before they wordlessly set off towards the window.

"This had better be good," he heard Lee muttered before they threw open the latch.

* * *

><p>Review please and thank you! :)<p> 


	25. Lost In My Mind

**Authror's Note:** Oh thank you to **stargirlak**, **xTeionx**, **DisgracedxMia**,****hachoo****,****Bookwormiie****, ****Aris1013****, and **www. purtydino. org **for your fantastic reviews! :D I'm glad you all liked the last chapter, and I hope you like this one just as much :)

Also, I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas! And if your Jewish, a very Happy Hanukah :)

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**Lost in My Mind**

_'Put your dreams away for now,  
>I won't see you for some time,<br>I am lost in my mind, I get lost in my mind...  
>...Oh my brother, your wisdom is all that I need.<br>And oh my brother, don't you worry about me.  
>Don't you worry, don't you worry, don't worry about me.'<br>_**~ "Lost in My Mind," The Head and the Heart**

George and Lee gaped. George's hand was frozen on the handle of the window as he stared until Lee launched himself forward and snapped it shut. He whirled around and leaned against it, eyes wide. "What the bloody hell is _he_ doing here?"

"I don't know," George rushed out in a slightly panicked voice, "but we have to get him back into the forest before anyone sees him! Hagrid will get fired or arrested or something!"

There was a hard bang at the window and Lee was nearly dislodged. "Well we better bloody hurry or he'll take the entire castle apart! Where the hell is Hagrid, anyway?"

"I don't know," George replied, just as perplexed as his friend. "But all we know is that he's obviously not here to bring him back to the forest himself, so we got to hurry!" He turned around and quickly cast a _Silencio_ spell over the dormitory so none of their roommates would awake. Unfortunately, they had to cast it _around_ Fred's bed, as the window was right beside it and they needed to hear each other.

"Should we...?" Lee trailed off, giving a pointed glance at Fred.

But before George could answer, there was another harsh bash at the window. "We don't have time!" George ran to the window but paused, a sudden thought striking him. "Grab the cauldron."

"What?"

"Grab the cauldron!" George ordered firmly before throwing the window open. "Grawp!" he said in an undertone. "What are you doing here?"

"HAG -"

"SHH!" George hissed, throwing a worried glance behind him. It _was_ possible to cause a ripple in the spell if you were loud enough. "Grawp, you can't talk, okay? People are asleep..." he mimed sleeping in an extra effort to get his point across. It worked since Grawp nodded and said nothing.

He looked over his shoulder and suddenly felt the entire world spin. George couldn't supress a yelp as he was unknowingly yanked out of the castle and manhandled into Grawp's grip. "Lee!" George cried frantically, still confused as to what was happening as his breath got knocked out of him.

"Don't get your knickers in a bunch, I got the - bloody hell!" Lee cried, nearly dropping the cauldron on his foot and ran to the window. "George, are you alright?"

"Fine," he rasped, wriggling his hands free and fruitlessly pushing on Grawp's fist around him. "Just get down he -"

But Lee cut him off with a quick and furious hand gesture, standing stock still. George could barely hear Lee's voice and someone else's frantic voice. Lee looked tense, and soon, George saw why. Fred with his ruffled hair and paled face seem to launch itself out the window and search desperately for all of a second before they landed on a certain ginger in a certain giant's hand. And for that one moment everyone stared between Fred and George.

George had his hands frozen in mid-push on Grawp's large fingers, panting a little from how hard Grawp was holding him. Fred in turn had his hands on the window sill, his face white as snow because of what he saw. No one moved for one perfectly silent moment.

"Um..." George said, looking at Fred warily. "Good morning?"

Fred looked like he was either about to explode or faint. "Grawp," he snarled in a low and dangerous voice, glaring at the giant who seemed blissfully unaware of the ginger's quickly building anger. George was leaning more towards 'exploding.' "Put. Him. Down."

Grawp shook his head and pulled the fisted George closer to him like a stubborn child would when they were told to hand over their toy. But still, he said nothing because of the fact that George had told him not to. Apparently he needed something, but he couldn't tell them while they were near the castle. "Grawp, loosen your grip, will you?" George gasped as he struggled for air. Fred's hands curled into fists, baring his teeth a little. A cranky, sleep-deprived, and worried Fred was _never_ pretty. Grawp obeyed, and George gulped the oxygen down, gasping harshly. "Go to the edge of the forest," he panted, "then tell us what's wrong."

Grawp nodded and quickly reached his hand out for Fred and Lee and held them tightly while they yelled out in surprise. "That's not what I meant!" George exclaimed, but Grawp had already started towards the forest. And when they got there, he set the three of them down roughly as he sat himself with a hard thump. All three wizards staggered and fell to the ground before casting quick looks back at the castle.

"George," Fred breathed, hopping up and rushing towards him after he pulled Lee to his feet. "What happened? Are you okay? God, you gave me heart attack when I woke up and you were gone and Lee was by the window -" he babbled, checking his twin over feverishly for injuries.

George gave a small, reassuring smile. "I'm okay." But then his face morphed into that of guilt and concern. "Are you guys? I didn't mean for him to grab you -"

But Lee stepped forward and cuffed him on the back of the head. "Don't be stupid," he admonished gently. "How the hell could you help the fact that a giant appeared outside our window?"

Fred nodded vigorously, still looking at his brother worriedly as George rubbed his chest. It was a little sore due to the fierce hold Grawp had had him in, and he was pretty sure it would turn into a bruise later.

Just then, Grawp pounded his fist against the ground in frustration, a rumbling tearing from his throat.

The three were nearly forced back to the ground again, Fred only kept up because George happened to catch his shoulder before he lost his footing. After making sure Fred was stable, George moved slowly and cautiously, straightening up to full height and looking Grawp in the eye. "What's wrong?"

Fred gripped George's upper arm tightly, glaring at the giant almost as if daring him to try and grab George again. Grawp brought his hands to his mouth and nibbled on them with an anxious expression on his face. He seemed unsure of whether he was allowed to talk again, so he whispered in a voice that was surprisingly quiet, "Ponies."

There was a moment of silence. "Er...come again?" Lee said, baffled and debating between laughing or not.

"PONIES!" Grawp shouted, seemingly thinking that Lee had just not heard him.

"Shh!" George hushed him quickly. "Keep your voice down! What do you mean ponies?" To Fred, George murmured, "Er...what _are_ ponies?"

Fred shook his head at him, and said in a voice that was still hard with resentment but full of confusion, "There're ponies in the forest?" Grawp nodded frantically, chewing on his finger.

"No offence or anything," Lee stated, still looking quite as perplexed as the twins were. "But what is the problem with ponies living in the forest? And where's Hagrid?"

Grawp whimpered and pointed to the castle. "Dumble," he said.

Fred sighed. "Hagrid's with Dumbledore?" Again Grawp nodded.

"What are ponies?" George asked again, sounding a bit annoyed now.

"They're like minature horses," Fred replied. George continued to look lost."Oh, right...you don't know what horses are...um, well, I'll just show you a picture of them later, okay?"

George frowned and looked unhappy, but complied. "Fine. But the question is, why would ponies bother Grawp? Are they dangerous?"

"No...well, yes, I suppose sometimes..." Fred hummed, looking thoughtful. George rolled his eyes at the vague response. "But only if you anger or spook them...hey, you know how he doesn't exactly say words right?" The other two nodded. "Well, what if we can have him..." but he trailed off and his face seemed to light up as a sudden idea struck him. "I got it! Centaurs!"

"How do 'centaurs' sound like 'ponies?'" Lee said, amused.

Fred smacked him on the head. "No, you prat. He's probably refering to the centaurs. They _are_ half horse and all, and I mean, they are vicious aren't they? And they're not too fond of giants themselves."

George shrugged, still put out that he knew next to nothing about what they were talking about. "I guess, I don't know much about either one of them." He kicked at the ground while Lee rubbed his head with a scowl on his face.

Fred gave his brother a sympathetic look. "I'll explain everything later," he promised.

Grawp, however, was getting annoyed himself at the conversation, and hit the ground in frustration once more. This time, George collided into Lee and Fred managed to stay upright.

"Well that's all good and all," Lee grunted as he caught George in surprise and lifted him to his feet. "But how the hell are we supposed to get the centaurs, who hate humans by the way, to leave Grawp alone in the middle of the night and no one knows we're out here? I happen to like living, and I don't want to take on an angry herd of blood-thirsty centaurs. Especially in my pajamas."

"Erm..." Fred murmured, at a complete loss. "I dunno," he sighed.

"Why don't we try out our swamp?" George offered after a few moments. "That's what I meant to do in the first place. I just thought that he got annoyed that we were taking so long with it or something. And anyways, if it fails, well, at least we tried. If it works, the centaurs can't get to him, right? I mean, isn't it sort of like a lake?" He really didn't know, to be honest. He was just going on a whim and hoping it made sense to somebody.

Lee and Fred looked at each other, considering it. "That doesn't sound that bad," Lee commented.

_"That_ bad?" George repeated with a mock insulted expression.

"Yeah, it's worth a shot," Fred agreed, smiling triumphantly for a second before faltering. "But how are we supposed to sneak all the way back to our dormitory, or even in to the _castle?_ It's bound to be locked."

George grinned mischievously. "Why don't you ask Grawp?" The other two wizards' slightly confused expressions cleared as realisation dawned on them.

"You don't think..." Lee trailed off, smiling widely.

"Grawp," Fred called up with a wink in George's direction. "Take us back through our window."

Grawp looked at them distrustfully, and George quickly realised why. "Oh, no we're just going to get something for you. We're coming right back," he promised.

Grawp nodded and grabbed all three of them in a flash and pushed them through the window. They tumbled over each other in a large thump, cursing and swearing as their limbs got tangled up with each other and they sprawled inelegantly across the floor.

"Let's just get this over with so I can get back to bed," Lee grumbled as he tore his foot from underneath George's shoulder blade.

Fred managed to get himself free first and haul his twin to his feet and then helping Lee. "I swear, I'm going to sleep so well when this is done," George sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Fred clapped George on the shoulder. "You and me both. C'mon, let's just get this over with."

Lee pointed his wand at the cauldron and shrunk it only small enough to fit through the window; Grawp wouldn't understand to be careful if it wasn't big enough for him to see.

"I got it," George declared as he bent over to pick it up.

A million little connections seemed to go off in Fred's mind at once. _George...window...Grawp...fall..._"Wait," Fred said quickly and a little panickally. "I can take it."

George raised an eyebrow as he stopped just as his fingers went to grab the handle. He straightened up and gave Fred a confused look. "Er...why?"

"Because...I want to?" Fred offered more as a question than an actual answer.

Lee and George exchanged a glance until George understood and rolled his eyes. "Oh, Fred," he chuckled, stooping down to pick the cauldron up again. "Don't be so dramatic," he grinned fondly. Fred frowned and bit his lip nervously, wringing his hands as his eyes darted from the window and Grawp's fiddling hand, and George making his way over to it with the cauldron.

"Fred has a point," Lee said slowly, not looking too excited anymore.

George looked like he was waiting for the punchline. "You're serious?" he asked, looking like he wanted to laugh. They remained stony faced. "C'mon guys," he rolled his eyes yet again, "I'm not going to fall out a window."

"Well, I didn't think you'd get hit by a Bludger and lose your memory, but here we are," Fred reasoned gently.

But George wasn't fazed. "Oh come on," he waved his hand at them. "Just because something _could_ happen, doesn't mean it will!"

"Yeah, your luck hasn't proved that theory yet, mate," Lee commented.

"And it won't if I'm not allowed to do anything," George replied in an equally pacified voice as Fred's was.

"Fine," Fred grouched. "But it's your fault if you fall and die, you hear?"

George smirked. "The blame is all mine, dear brother," he chortled as he picked the cauldron up again. Fred was breathing down his neck the entire time, and he smiled and shook his head a little at his brother's over-protectiveness. He made a couple of quick little shuffles once he got close enough to try and prop the cauldron up against the window frame and swing his leg over and on to Grawp's hand.

He staggered spectacularly, however, as his foot caught a little on the window sill, causing Fred's heart to stop for one quick second and Lee instictively jump forward before George caught his balance. "Can you try to _not_ give me a heart attack?" Fred croaked, hand to his chest. Lee didn't look too much better.

"Where's the fun in that?" George mused as he got his bearings, shooting Fred a dazzling grin in return to his twin's glare. He didn't have to look at Lee to know he was giving him the same glower.

But then came the hard part. He was half-way out, but he would have to maneuver himself very carefully to keep the cauldron from spilling and himself from falling. George's eyebrows knitted together as he tried to lean up against the frame so it could support him while he tried to swing his other leg over. Fred was right beside him, crowding him a bit as he tried to help him out. His expression was anxious as he tried to go as slowly as possible.

Suddenly, Lee seemed smack himself on the forehead. "We are so stupid," he groaned. In response to the gingers' confused looks, he explained, "We could've just _handed_ the cauldron to George."

George looked like he wanted to laugh because it was so obvious, while Fred looked like he was about to smack himself too. "Well, I'm nearly out anyway," George shrugged, moving more quickly in his attempt to get free.

"Watch it," Fred remarked, alarmed, reaching out to grab and steady him. It was times like these that he and George switched roles, at least a little bit anyway. George always will be the one more likely to think of the consequences and reign Fred back in when he got too out of hand, but sometimes, like now, he was the more impulsive one. And it was now Fred's job to keep him in check and make sure that no one, more importantly _George,_ didn't get hurt.

The younger twin didn't know why, but he felt more spontaneous, more..._lively_ than ever before, and he simply wanted to enjoy every part of this as much as he could. With Fred's help, George managed to clamber on to Grawp's outstretched hand, albeit wobbly. Grawp himself seemed to be getting bored and irritated, and a rumbling made itself known to the wizards of his displeasure.

"We better hurry up," Lee advised as Fred made to step out of the window. Fred nodded and quickly, yet cautiously, stepped into Grawp's hand as well, and turned around to help Lee out too. And together the two of them forced George to let go of the cauldron so they could hold it instead, claiming that he'd had enough time with it. Both Fred and Lee wound their arm around Grawp's thumb and held on to one handle with one hand, while Fred gripped on to George with his other arm. And once everyone was settled, Grawp took off towards the forest.

Fred, George, and Lee bounced and fought to keep the cauldron steady while remaining on the hand the entire time. And when they stopped, they almost all got unseated. Fred had the harder job, however, because George had pitched forward with a yell of surprise, and it had only been their tight hold on each other that kept him from flying off the side. Not that that stopped Fred's heart from stuttering in terror, mind. Especially when he had almost been torn from his grasp.

George winced as his head pounded, and he used his free hand to masage his temple. "Merlin," he groaned under his breath. Something Fred hadn't failed to hear.

"Are you okay?" Fred asked worriedly as Grawp lowered them to the ground.

"Yeah," he grimaced, though he looked positively worn down.

"You probably shouldn't be straining yourself so much," Fred said quietly, concern etched upon his face. "It'll make your headaches worse."

George gave a wan smile but said nothing as he staggered off of Grawp's hand, nearly toppling over as the world spun. "George!" Fred cried and launched himself forward. He managed to catch him before he hit the ground, and peered anxiously into his twin's face as he lowered themselves down. "Are you alright?"

Grawp seemed to notice that something wasn't right, and began to fuss, making long whining noises like a dog might. Lee set the cauldron down gently and dove beside Fred, looking at George frantically.

George himself looked a little green and in pain. He rolled to the side and gagged violently, half being held up by a panicked Fred, and half supporting himself. George was vaguely aware of a sharp pain in his right hand but he paid it no attention. He hadn't felt like this since the day the Slytherin team had attacked them, and he hadn't a clue why. Perhaps it was because he got so jostled; you didn't have to hit your head to hurt your brain.

"Merlin's beard, George, what's happening?" Lee exclaimed, looking extremely afraid; he hadn't seen this before.

Fred rubbed circles on his brother's back to try and soothe him as he dry heaved, a tormented expression on the older twin's face. And after what felt like years, the nausea seemed to pass, and George collapsed. He felt dizzy and faint and utterly exhausted. All he wanted was to sleep...to rest and never have to move ever again.

"George?" Fred said softly, propping him up a little.

"M'fine," George managed to choke out, closing his eyes for a few seconds as his head throbbed painfully.

"No you're not," Fred snapped, his hands shaking fiercely. "We should get you back into the dorm -"

"No," George murmured adamantly, albeit weakly. "I want to see if this works. I want to be _here."_

"Don't be thick," Lee retorted, white in the face. He'd never personally seen George like this, and it frightened him. "We...we should get Mr. Rikialria...or Madam Pomfrey...or..._someone!"_

But Fred merely let out a sigh, and gave a slight shake of his head to warn Lee to be quiet. He knew by now that George was as stubborn of a little bugger as he used to be; he would never voluntarily go to the Hospital Wing or any kind of hospital for that matter. And he would put up a terrific fight if anyone tried to make him. If things remained like this, however, Fred was prepared to drag him tooth and nail to Mr. Rikialria. He probably would've done so already if he wasn't so bloody tired.

"I'm fine," George gritted out again, attempting to sit up on his own. His right hand which promptly bore _'Rulebreakers deserve to be punished,'_ was bleeding slightly as he seemed to have scraped it on his way down. But his train of thought stopped there as he swayed dangerously, causing Fred to tighten his hold on him, cursing under his breath.

"Lee, get the cauldron," Fred ordered roughly, his voice thick with worry and frustration. "The sooner we get this tested out, the sooner we can duct tape him to the bed."

George pouted, though the effect was weakened due to his cringe, and meanwhile Lee did as he was told. "Fred, I'm not -"

"If you've got any sense left, you'll stop talking," Fred replied harshly. However, his hard demeanor died a quick death when George shot him his infamous, withering glare. It was as cold as steel, and could quite possibly stop even Lord Voldemort in his tracks.

The older twin's eyes went wide and pleading, failing as usual to resist the panic that ensued whenever George was angry with him. "I'm sorry," he told him sincerely and urgently. "But it's just...Georgie, you don't look after yourself." George opened his mouth to protest vehemently, but Fred silenced him with a hand. "You know I'm right," he insisted. "You refused to get help until you were nearly dead before," George winced at this, "and you still continue to refuse to help when you're in pain. What would you have me do, Georgie? If you won't take care about yourself, then I will. Whether you like it or not."

George avoided his gaze. "Have you ever thought that maybe I don't want help, that I don't tell you about any pain I'm feeling, because I don't want you to worry?" he muttered quietly.

But Fred could come up with no answer to this, and even if he had one, he wouldn't have had time to give it; Lee plopped the cauldron down right beside them, startling both of them to his existence. "Let's get this over with," he grunted.

"So how do we do this?" George asked in a false cheery voice, never looking in Fred's direction. Fred, on the other hand, did nothing but stare at his brother as if seeing him for the first time.

Lee looked confused, but decided not to comment. Grawp, he noticed, was being quiet, which was unusual. He shot him a look, and found him contently swatting at a lone butterfly circling his head. He seemed very much like a toddler, and Lee wondered for the first time what his actual age was. But now was not the time to be thinking about such trivial matters. "Erm...well, I suppose what we could do, is put a stabilising charm on it to make it portable so we can, you know, levitate it in the right place. And then, well, we hope for the best."

George nodded, wriggling away from Fred's grasp; he seemed to be in another world completely, and meanwhile unconsciously gripping George tighter. The world had stopped spinning for the most part, and he just wanted to get back to bed. And the only way to do that was to test their swamp. Well, the only way _he _wanted to do it.

"_Conspisso,"_ Lee murmured, pointing his wand at the cauldron. Immediately, the foul liquid inside visibly condensed, making it almost look solid. _"Wingardium Leviosa,"_ Lee said again, waving his wand carefully so as to not grab the cauldron accidentally. The liquid was slowly lifted upwards, swirling in its liquid/solid form.

George looked up at it in awe, never having seen anything like it, and in a fit of euphoria, George nudged Fred in the side, beaming broadly. Fred was brought back to reality with a start, his eyes immediately latching on to George's face before noticing where his obviously excited brother was pointing.

Despite his previous musings, he couldn't help but grin in giddy mischief at their somewhat success. "Brilliant," he said happily, trying to push all of his former thoughts out of his mind. "Now...Grawp," he said, directing it at the equally awed giant. "Bring us to where you live in the forest. And be gentle!" he added in a scolding voice as Grawp instantly put his hand on the ground.

Lee, focusing entirely on keeping the potion suspended in air as he moved, was the first to go on to Grawp's hand. Fred grabbed on to George and was just short of carrying him as he followed Lee. "Fred," George protested, a tad embarrassed with himself. "I can walk...I'm fi -"

"Don't you dare say you're fine," Fred replied in a dangerous voice, frustration haven risen alarmingly quick. "You haven't been fine since the day that Bludger hit you."

Wisely, George remained quiet, but Fred would've almost prefered George to argue with him. The silence seemed strained, and he couldn't help but notice that George refused to look in his direction. But what Fred didn't know (though it would've helped his anxiety level) was that it wasn't because he was angry with him.

George felt, well, ashamed of himself. Being reminded of his accident and the fact that he can't do anything without relying on Fred heavily made him feel like a bad brother. Fred had told him that it wasn't his fault...but did his twin really believe that? If he did, then why did he keep bringing it up? And what if he lied when he said that he didn't mind helping him? What if Fred was getting tired of him, and he only stayed out of duty? Because they were twins?

George shook his head as if to shake away the daunting thoughts. He couldn't think like that, even if deep down he wondered if it were true. At least, he could think like that when Fred was around; he could smell discontent in George from miles away, unless the eyes fixated on him meant otherwise.

And with a sudden jolt that nearly dislodged George completely, the hand was lowered; he had been lost in thought the entire way. He hopped off before the hand had fully reached ground level, not giving Fred the option to help him out of 'duty.'

Fred narrowed his eyes slightly, but refrained from comment. Lee carefully stepped off, hovering the swamp in the air.

"Okay...erm, where do we put it?" George asked, looking around.

"It won't matter," Fred replied smugly. "Watch. Lee, place it anywhere."

Lee did as he was told and removed the stabilising charm. It fell back into it's liquid-like state, and it miraculously looked like, well, a swamp. Lee cocked his head to the side. "No offence or anything mate, but it looks...small."

Indeed, it was merely a puddle in the vast forest. Fred grinned cheekily, moving to stand far away. "Not for long. _Engrogio." _The puddle expanded into, well, _not_ a puddle. George and Lee jumped out of the way and staggered backwards, running up to where Fred stood. They watched in amazement as the swamp continued to grow, seeing Grawp's eyes dance with delight and astonishment.

George and Lee shared an ecstatic glance from their place behind Fred, strong currents of triumph coursing through them. "That's fantastic," Lee laughed, stepping forward to ruffle Fred's hair.

"So I'm guessing it worked?" George said, smiling slightly as Grawp joyously clapped his hands.

"Well, so far..." Fred replied. "We'll see if it can hold back the centaurs and whether it, you know, explodes or not."

"So for now...?"

"We wait."

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><p>Reviews will be much appreciated :)<p> 


	26. London Beckoned

**Author's Note:** Ahh. Don't you just love Panic! At The Disco and their insanely long song titles? :D Haha I don't know if it's just me, but this band just reminds me of Fred and George :P And I just want to apologise for the late update! I went to Mont Tremblant in Quebec for the holidays and I couldn't get internet :P But I'm fully accessible to it now! I hope you all like it, and a HUGE thanks to **DisgracedxMia**,** hachoo****, **Aris1013**, **EricaX**, **chocolateMnMs**, **stargirlak****, and**** LunaLovegood2902 (your review was my favourite!)**** for your fantastic reviews :) And also to everyone who favourited and alerted my story, it really means a lot :)

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but this story. This one's mine.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating:** K+

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><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines**

'_Stop stalling, make a name for yourself.  
>Boy you better put that pen to paper, charm your way out.<br>If you talk you better walk you better back your shit up,  
>With more than good hooks while you're all under the gun.'<br>_~ **'London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines,' Panic! At The Disco**

Fred and George decided to pay a little visit to the giant squid the next morning, after they had slept for ten hours and skived off of class. The Puking Pastilles really worked wonders. Lee, being the _ever _diligent student that he was, was such in a foggy, sleepy daze that it never occured to him until much too late to get out of class. He'd make sure to curse them out later, though.

The walk was quiet, each in their own little thoughts, yet the silence wasn't strained or uncomfortable. It was peaceful, and even loud and hilarious people like themselves liked to slow down every once in a while.

They settled themselves beneath the small patch of snow-free grass underneath the large tree, waiting intently for the squid to poke through. "I reckon we did it," George said suddenly, turning to give Fred a triumphant smile. The success of their swamp had been short lived due to their utter exhaustion, but as their energy slowly began to build did the excitement of it all start to hit him.

It took all but a second for Fred to realise what he was talking about. With a returning grin, he replied smugly, "I knew it all along."

George snorted, placing his hands behind his head as he leaned back into the trunk of the tree, closing his eyes. "Yeah, right Mr. 'Let's Hope It Doesn't Explode.' Admit it, it was just a lucky guess last night," he said cheekily.

Fred pretended to look offended. "Why, George, do you _doubt_ my awesomeness?"

"Doubt it...question it...disbelieve it..."

Fred smacked George on the arm, giving him a mock glare. "Okay, smart mouth, you just wait. One day I will do something so incredible you won't be able to deny it."

George waved his hand in an off-handed way. "Yeah, ye -" But he was interrupted when someone hit him hard and tackled him to the ground. _"Oof!"_ he grunted painfully.

"Lee!" Fred cried out indignantly, standing up. "What was that for?"

"Malfoy," Lee gasped, rolling off of George. "Sorry, mate," he quickly apologised. "Didn't mean to hit you so hard."

"S'okay," George gasped. Fred glowered at Lee.

"I have a good reason!" Lee quickly defended himself, hands raised in surrender. "I found Malfoy! You know how we haven't seen him in a long time and we've been wanting to get our revenge but we couldn't find him -"

"Breathe, Lee," George chortled as Fred pulled him to his feet. "Hold on, I thought you were in class?"

"Yeah, well, we all think things," Lee grinned after taking a deep breath, trying to calm his babbling. "Seriously? I didn't get to be your friend without coming up with a back up plan. The point is, I found Malfoy!" Lee grinned evily, rubbing his hands together, "Let's go beat him up."

Fred began to get that wild look in his eyes as he allowed the anger towards the Slytherin build. But then he paused. "Wait..." he said slowly, a wicked glint in his eyes. "I've got a better idea."

"Better than beating him to a pulp?" George raised his eyebrows.

"Much better," Fred said mischievously. "Why don't we ride this out a little? I mean, what's the rush?"

Lee and George shared a glance, affirming with each other exactly what they were thinking: Fred had lost it. "What's the rush?" Lee said is disbelief. "What's the _rush?_ Do I have to describe exactly what he's done this year? Or George, should you do the honours?"

"Not necessary," Fred said in a steely voice, his eyes hard. "I know what he's done. But Lee, did Malfoy see you when you saw him?"

Lee nodded, looking deeply satisfied. "Scared the knickers off of him, I did. Took one look at me and all I had to do was crack my knuckles a glare and the pansy took off running with his lackies right behind. I -" Lee stopped, looking at Fred's smug look with quickly dawning realisation. "Ahhhhh, I see what you're thinking."

George still looked confused. "Erm...care to enlighten me?"

"Listen, all we have to do for now is...let him sweat a bit. He'll drive himself insane with paranoia, and all we have to do is make sure every minute is hell," Fred chuckled maniacally. "Until he cracks, in which case we can swoop in and beat him up."

George slowly broke into the widest grin either had ever seen. "That is _brilliant._ Can we do it right now?" he asked excitedly.

Fred bowed dramatically. "After you, dear brother o' mine."

George bowed back. "Why _thank_ you." After which he stood up and then proceeded to bow to Lee. "And after _you -"_

"You guys are idiots," Lee laughed, shaking his head. "Let's go before you two start curtseying."

Earning a snide remark from Fred, Lee and the twins set off casually to the castle, trying to hide their grins as they went along. They hadn't a clue where Malfoy was now, but that wasn't the point. The three of them patrolled the hallways, asking anyone they happened upon, friend or foe, if they'd seen Malfoy. It was part of their 'scare Malfoy' tactic; people were bound to tell him that they were looking for him. All they were trying to do right now was place a seed of fear in Malfoy's mind. Schemes like this relied on patience, and they suddenly felt like they had all the time in the world.

Once they were done and they felt they had done an efficient enough job, they walked to the Great Hall for lunch, spotting their little brother Ron and his two friends Harry and Hermione. "Hey guys," Fred said cheerily, sitting across from them. George and Lee followed on either side, looking merry.

"Why do you look so happy?" Ron asked suspiciously.

Fred looked offended. "Can't I just be happy to see ickle Ronniekins with his two friends?" he asked innocently. All three of them raised his eyebrows. "Okay, here's what's up," Fred said, leaning toward them. "If any of you see Malfoy - yes, you too Hermione - tell him we're looking for him. And don't be afraid to exaggerate in any way whatsoever."

"Why are you looking for him?" Harry asked curiously.

"And why are you _telling_ him your looking for him?" Ron asked with a dumbfounded expression.

"Because, you prat, we want him to freak out," Fred replied.

Ron still looked confused. "Yeah, okay...why?"

Fred cuffed him on the head. "Use your brain or sod off."

"What he means," Lee quickly cut in as Ron glared murderously at Fred as he rubbed his head. George scratched his hand, looking a bit awkward. "In his own, uniquely rude way, is that we're trying to get him paranoid before we attack; you know, the stress is the worst part before anything, right?"

"Ah," Harry grinned. Hermione simply rolled her eyes and pretended not to hear them. "Don't worry, we'll pass along the message," he promised, looking quite excited. "But hey, you know, if you ever decide to beat him up..." Harry suggested. They could all see that Harry had wanted to beat the living daylights out of Malfoy but never could for a long time, and he _definitely_ wanted to be a part of it. Even Ron, despite grumbling angrily to himself, still peeved at Fred, looked willing to help.

"We'll make sure to take you guys along," George beamed. From what he's learned, those two deserved to punch him as much as they did.

"Okay, but our party stops there," Fred said warningly. "If you let anyone know we're going to have half the school after him, and then it won't be quite as satisfying."

"_Honestly_ you two, don't you think you're taking this a bit too far?" Hermione suddenly spoke up.

Everyone stared at her in disbelief. Fred and George even looked ticked off. "So you think what Malfoy did _isn't_ going too far?" Fred demanded. "You think that's it's okay that he nearly killed George, what, five thousand times?"

"I'm not saying that," Hermione said patiently, which only made Fred more pissed. "I'm just saying that you shouldn't sink to his level.

Fred opened his mouth to retort angrily, when Ron snorted, "Sure, _you_ can say that now."

"Now?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Were you, or were you not the one who slapped Malfoy two years ago?" Ron asked. Hermione blushed. "It's not fair, _you_ got to hit him, but now _we_ can't?"

Fred, George, and Lee gaped at her. The _last_ person they would've suspected to _slap_ Malfoy on the face was Hermione. "Well now, this is an interesting development," Fred finally said, smirking in that superior way. "I guess you can't really do anything about us, now can you?"

"Well I _could,"_Hermione huffed, though her cheeks were still stained pink. "What you're planning is different, and I can't knowingly let you beat up another student, no matter who it is." Her Prefect badge gleamed obscenely from her robe.

Fred leaned towards her to growl in a dangerous voice, "If you had a twin and nearly lost him because of one person, you wouldn't let that go in a hurry." His voice was so low that Hermione was the only one who could hear him. Everyone else just glanced away awkwardly. He leaned back and stared at her meaningfully. "Prefect or not."

Hermione looked down at her lap, her face flushed anew, though this time it looked a little more like shame. Everyone's gaze ping-ponged between Fred and Hermione, curious as to what happened. Eventually, however, George cleared his throat loudly and stretched, saying, "Well, I think this was uncomfortable enough, what about you guys?"

Simultaneously, Lee, Ron, and Harry all started nodding and talking at once with each other in their agreement with George. Meanwhile George chanced a glance at Fred, a little surprised to find him doing the same thing. He flashed him a crooked smile but he knew Fred saw the curiousity in his eyes. Fred gave a microscopic shake of his head that only George could've possibly detected, but returned the grin.

"So, how about we actually do what lunch period's for, eh?" Lee suggested. That effectively stopped anymore talk of Malfoy and their plan.

* * *

><p>The three of them didn't so anything for a few days, simply letting the school do their dirty work for now. But as the days past, something became glaringly obvious for George that had nothing to do whatsoever with Malfoy.<p>

"Blasted thing keeps acting up," George grumbled one evening in the Common room, scratching ruthlessly at his scarred hand. Fred, Lee, and George were up doing some tests where they were recreating their swamp to see if it had any side effects as they hadn't been able to sneak off to the forest yet. But George could barely do anything with his hand without its itchiness bordering on unbearable. Fred could see that it had become raw, puffy, and inflamed.

"You don't reckon it's, you know, infected or anything?" Fred asked anxiously.

George frowned. "I don't see how it could -" But then he stopped, smacking himself on the forehead. "Of course," he groaned.

"What?" Lee asked, knitting his eyebrows together.

"I scratched my hand on the way down from Grawp's hand," George grimaced, raking his hand with his fingernails furiously. "It must've gotten agitated."

"Well you can't go around all day scratching it," Lee said.

George knew where this was going. He rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to the Hospital Wing any sooner than I have to," he said firmly.

Both Fred and Lee both made a face. They hadn't expected anything less, but still, it made it that much harder to get him there at the end of the day. "George," Fred said just as rigidly. "You're going to go to Madam Pomfrey. It's probably infected -"

"Thanks, Mum," George snorted. "Seriously, do you know me?"

Fred glowered. "Do you know _me?"_

Touché. "Well, I guess this is a problem," George smirked.

"Well, seeing as I'm the tie breaker," Lee suddenly spoke up. "I have to sa - GET HIM!" Out of the blue Lee launched himself at George and pinned him to the ground with Fred, catching on, not far behind.

George, shocked at first, thrashed like a marlin, his arms flailing and laughs tearing from his throat as immediately the two began tickling his ribs into submission. Lee ended up sitting on George's stomach while Fred held his hands, grinning broadly. "That was low," George gasped, mock glaring at them, his eyes watering.

"Yeah, well, desperate times," Lee winked, patting George's chest like he was an obedient dog.

"So, what're you guys going to do now, eh geniuses?" George asked, smirking. "Carry me there?"

"Well, if we have to," Fred shrugged.

George frowned and began struggling a bit. "This is ridiculous," he said in a slightly exasperated voice, pulling harder. His hand was starting to itch something fierce, and he desperately needed to scratch it. "It's just a hand, for pete's sake! You're acting like it -"

"Could actually be a problem?" Fred finished, raising an eyebrow. "It _could_ be, George, I mean, look at it! And knowing your luck -"

"Just because I've had bad luck doesn't mean you should freak out about every little thing!" George protested. "I. Am. _Fine."_

Fred rolled his eyes. "Right, and the last time you said that, we found out that you might die," he said dryly.

George glowered at him, hiding the cringe he would've made if he wasn't angry. His thoughts of whether or not Fred _really_ remained out of duty came crashing down upon him once more. It pained him to think like this, but for now, it only fueled his anger. "Are you going to bring that up every time? It's over, Fred, let it go."

Fred looked away. "Easy for you to say," he mumbled. "You don't have to stand by and watch." George knitted his eyebrows together and looked at him contemplatively, like he was trying to figure something out.

Lee cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I don't know about you two, but I'm not fond of sitting here all day -"

"_You're_ not happy," George grumbled.

" - so, how about we just get this over with so we can sleep tonight, okay?" Lee inquired. Fred nodded.

"No, not okay," George said a little angrily. "There is nothing wrong, alright? So get _off!"_

The two other wizards groaned in frustration, but said nothing as Lee quickly clambered off and grabbed on to one arm while Fred held tightly to the other. George's eyes flashed as he was dragged to his feet, and Fred felt the usual panic rise within him. "Georgie, you know it's for your own good," Fred said softly, almost pleadingly.

George didn't say anything, but his jaw was locked and he looked severely annoyed. He thought they were overreacting to a ridiculous and irritating level.

"Er, what do we do about the ingredients?" Lee suddenly questioned as they were halfway to the door.

Fred groaned again. "Ugh, just make sure George doesn't go anywhere, I'll clean it up."

George continued to glare, and Fred did his best not to look him in the eye; he'd unravel otherwise. Lee had a hard time getting George to stay put, but he sure as hell wasn't going to hex him. One, George would kill him. Two, Fred would kill him. And three...Fred would kill him.

Fred was scary when he was angry.

"Okay, let's go," Fred said, appearing from the dormitory. The two promptly dragged George to the Hospital Wing, the captive ginger putting up a terrific fight the entire way.

Madam Pomfrey looked startled as the door banged open and Lee and Fred were wrestling George into the room. "What on Earth -!" she cried.

"Look...hand..." Fred panted, tugging George forward.

Still flustered, Madam Pomfrey stepped forward to peer at it. "Hmm...it's a little infected, but nothing to cause a comotion about," she told them in an exasperated voice. She didn't like noise in her Hospital Wing.

"Hah!" George snapped in both triumph and annoyance, wrenching the two wizards' hands free from his arms and stepping far away from them. He eyed them angrily and crossed his arms.

Madam Pomfrey quickly disappeared into her office only to appear moments later with a cream-like substance. "Here," she said, handing it to George. "It should go away in a few days."

George took it, but crossed his arms again. Fred and Lee felt like idiots. But for Fred, it was quickly overshadowed by his quickly rising anxiety of knowing that George was furious with him. It nearly choked him and he felt panicked. He _never_ lasted long with that, even before any of this memory loss situation ever happened. He turned towards George with begging eyes, but George didn't look at him. And Fred was willing to do whatever he had to to get George to stop being angry.

However, before Fred could do anything, Madam Pomfrey looked in mid-step before she paused and turned around. She looked very indecisive before she said slowly, "Oh...well, I suppose we should just get this over with, right?"

All three of them shared surprised glances, despite George's irritation. "Get what over with?" George asked.

But Madam Pomfrey simply rounded up the few people in the Hospital Wing who looked nothing more than ill with the flu, said what looked like directions judging by the body language, and ushered them out of the door.

"Uh...what are you doing?" Fred asked nervously.

Madam Pomfrey, still, said nothing and disappeared into her office. And when she returned, accompanying her was none other than Mr. Rikialria.

George's jaw dropped. _Oh crap,_ he thought to himself as he was filled with dread.

Fred felt his stomach drop. "Uh, thanks but we really should go," he said quickly, taking hold of George's arm and heading swiftly to the door. Lee merely frowned.

"Wait," Mr. Rikialria said calmly.

"We're not supposed to meet yet," Fred nearly snarled, his grip tightening on George's wrist. He was horrified at what he just dragged George bodily into.

"I agree that this is a coincidence," Mr. Rikialria said patiently. "But we would meet in a few days, anyway. And even though I had originally just stopped by to check with Madam Pomfrey about whether she had seen you yet or if you'd come by with any complaints, I think it'd be easier just to get it over with, don't you?"

Mr. Rikialria had a way about him that could convince you of anything. He could say that the sky was actually a shade of purple and you'd end up believing him. George's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Alright," he said quietly.

"No," Fred growled, his voice bordering on harsh. He positioned himself in front of George, still holding his arm, as if to protect him by shielding him from view. There was an underlying note of panic in his voice, because if it hadn't been for him, George wouldn't have to suffer tonight. If he'd just gone tomorrow or something... "Not tonight, _thank you_ very much."

George pulled his arm away, and without looking at him, he said, "It's fine." He walked forward, and it was evident in his tone that he was still mad.

"Wait," Fred said desperately, beggingly. "We can just wait...we don't have to do it now...George, don't, please..."

George could never stand it when Fred sounded like that. Sighing to himself, he swallowed his anger and simply gave him a crooked smile and shrugged. "S'no big deal," he said lightly. "Anyways, I get to miss potions class tomorrow," he grinned.

But Fred found nothing amusing about the situation. This was his fault. George clambered on to the bed as Mr. Rikialria stepped forward, and before Fred knew it, he was baring his teeth and snarling at him. Lee instinctively held on to Fred's arms to stop him from launching himself forward. Lee got an uneasy feeling about this, and shot George an apologetic, guilty, and frantic look. George merely shook his head and smiled slightly as if to tell him not to worry about it.

"I must ask you two to go back to your dormitory," Mr. Rikialria said in his deep voice.

"What?" Fred spluttered. "No way in hell!"

"After last time's episode," he remarked in an almost dry tone, "I must inisist on it."

Fred shook his head vigorously, glowering fiercely and gritting his teeth. He thrashed in Lee's grip, showing an alarming bit of strength.

"Mr. Weasley, if you don't leave, I'm afraid I'm going to have to make you," Mr. Rikialria said loudly in a warning voice over Fred's increasing growls.

"Fred, just go," George told him gently. He didn't want Fred to be forced out of the room. At Fred's shake of his head, George rolled his eyes. "They're going to make you leave anyway, why not just spare the energy? Don't give me that look, you prat," he warned at Fred's gaze, "you know I'm right."

But the look on Fred's face was awful. George could see a lot of emotions swimming in his eyes; Pain, guilt, sorrow, panic...the list was endless, and it was hard for George to look at him. "George..." Fred said softly, surprising them by his sudden change in tone. "I'm sorry. I'm really, _really_ sorry, but please don't...don't do it...not tonight..." It was more painful to know what George was about to go through because he was the reason it was going to happen.

George hated how Fred looked, but he didn't see what the big deal was; it was going to be the same whether he did it tonight or any other day, and he'd rather get it over with sooner rather than later. "It's _fine,"_ George said, stressing the last word. "I'm here aren't I? So I might as well get it over with. But...er...you definitely should _not_ be here. Nor you, Lee."

Fred continued to struggle desperately against Lee's grasp, however. It was a big deal to Fred, and he wasn't going down without a fight.

"Mr. Jordan," Mr. Rikialria said, "can you please take Mr. Weasley out of here? You seem to be the only one who can handle him, and trust me when I say that neither of you want to see what's going to happen."

But that merely made Fred frantically writhe in Lee's grasp, terror driving him forward. "George!" Fred cried. "Lee, get _off me!_ George!"

Lee, ever so slowly after making up his mind, began dragging Fred away from the bed. "This is for your own good, mate," Lee murmured unhappily, echoing Fred's own words to George not half an hour before. But this time, Fred was on the receiving end.

"Get off me, you git!" Fred roared, kicking and thrashing about. "George!"

But as Lee dragged him away, the last words Fred heard before the Hospital Wing was out of sight, were, "Madam Pomfrey, would you be able to assist me? I'm short on Healers at the moment."

* * *

><p>Lee (somehow) managed to force Fred away from the Hospital Wing, though it took some doing with Fred screaming threats at him at the top of his lungs and trying to break his kneecaps. "GET OFF!" Fred hollered in unexplainable rage.<p>

"Do you think I'm enjoying this?" Lee snapped harshly, dodging Fred's fist and holding him against a wall to try and make him see sense. "Bloody hell, Fred, if you weren't acting like such a git, I'd be back there banging on the door! But even _I_ could tell that someone was going to get bloody killed if you didn't get away, and I'm _pretty_ sure George would kill me if you got hurt, so I did what I had to do, alright?"

Fred was panting heavily, his face still contorted in fury, but at least he wasn't striking out anymore. "George needs to do this to _live,_ Fred! If you keep trying to bloody stop him he's going to die! Is that what you want?"

"No, that's not what I bloody want," Fred growled back.

Lee let go of him with a slight push, staring at him with a hard gaze. "Then calm down."

They stared at each other for a few minutes, giving each other a calculating look, both panting. And then suddenly, the fight seemed to drain out of Fred, his body wilting as he leaned against the wall. His eyes were eyes downward as his face crumpled, sliding ever so slowly to the floor. Lee stared almost in a shocked daze, because he, himself, had never seen Fred so distraught. Fred seemed to curl into himself, propping his elbows on his knees and pressing his hands to his eyes.

Hesitantly, not quite sure what to do now, Lee crouched down, looking at Fred almost warily. "Fred..." he said quietly, shifting slightly to keep his balance. "I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I shouldn't have said...ugh, this whole thing is ridiculous," he moaned frustratingly.

Fred let out a choked sound that was caught between amusement and sorrow.

"But..." Lee carried on slowly. "You know George is going to be fine. Sure, it'll hurt, there's no getting around that, but didn't you say that Mr. Rikialria said that they would get easier over time? So...I think he's over the worst of it, mate."

Fred snorted. "Watch George scream in agony for a few hours and then tell me that," he remarked miserably.

Lee winced slightly. "Well, no offence, but that doesn't really sound like something I want to do in my spare time." Again, Fred snorted. "But there's no use dwelling on it. Let's...oh, let's just get back to working on the swamp. Or...visiting the Giant Squid. You always liked doing that." But at seeing Fred's conspicuous flinch, he quickly crossed that off. "Or not that...we could, oh I don't know, turn Umbridge into a Quaffle and hit her around for an hour."

Fred let out a weak chuckle, lifting his head finally out of his hands. "Bringing Umbridge pain _is_ always satisfying..."

Lee beamed and clapped Fred on the back. _"There_ we go. C'mon, up you get." He pulled Fred to his feet. "Now, what should we do...?"

Fred's face slowly began to bear a sinister smile. "I got it." Umbridge's office would never be the same after a few rounds of certain fireworks they conveniently hadn't used yet.

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><p>Reviews are very much appreciated :)<p> 


	27. No Such Thing

**Author's Note:** Oh my goodness, I've actually reached over 200 reveiws! :D I'm so happy haha, thank you to **EricaX**,** chocolateMnMs****, **hachoo**, **Aris1013**, **DisgracedxMia**, **stargirlak ****for reviewing, but ESPECIALLY to **melkyre**! You made me so extremely happy when I saw your reviews! :D :D

I hope you all enjoy this chapter :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything!

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

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><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**No Such Thing**

_'I wanna run through the halls of my high school,  
>I wanna scream at the top of my lungs!<br>I just found out there's no such thing as the real world,  
>Just a lie you've got to rise above.'<br>_**~ 'No Such Thing,' John Mayer**

George, for once, didn't awake in a gasp of surprise like he had just been dunked in cold water. No, instead he drifted back to consciousness slowly, but expectingly. It started off with a few murmurs of voices that he couldn't quite put a name to, but he hardly could muster up enough energy to care. And then he began to gradually acquaint himself with the fabric of his bedsheets and the comforting warmth of the blankets tucked around him.

But _then_ came the crippling pain. He groaned slightly, his throat raw and hoarse from what he disturbingly assumed was from him screaming. However, his slight noise stopped the voices, and even though George had his eyes still tightly shut, he could feel someone moving towards him, and someone leaving.

"George?" came a deep, soothing voice. It was calming, but George found his eyebrows knitting together, because it wasn't the voice he expected - or wanted - to hear.

He let his eyes flutter open, his vision blurry as his eyes adjusted to being used. And the swimming face of Mr. Rikialria finally came into view. George didn't know what to say. He felt kind of dazed, and saying 'Thank you' seemed a bit...awry. Especially considering the way his limbs felt. "Hi?" he croaked, finally deciding on something instead of staring at him like an idiot. Though it was still more as a sort of suggestive greeting than anything else.

Mr. Rikialria chuckled softly and sat on the side of George's bed, but George could see in his eyes that there was something troubling him. "Er..." George tried to say but his voice caught in the roughness of his throat. Mr. Rikialria handed him a glass of water, which he gratefully drank. "What...er...is there something...wrong?" His voice was still ragged, but at least he could speak.

Mr. Rikialria hesitated, which George took as a bad sign. "Not specifically, no," he said slowly. "Well...I suppose yes." George resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "It's just...you seem to be taking longer to awake, Mr. Weasley."

George immediately filled with panic. "What time is it?" he asked urgently, trying to sit up. His thoughts instantly flitted to Fred.

Mr. Rikialria rested a hand on George's shoulder and gently pushed him back into his pillow. "Relax, Mr. Weasley, it has not been too long, considering we did start at night. When you add in the circumstances of sleeping, it's only been a few hours over the expected time. Right now, it is nine thirty in the morning."

George raised his eyebrows. _Nine thirty? _He didn't know what time they started, however, so it didn't really mean anything. "Where's Fred?" George asked.

Mr. Rikialria smiled slightly in amusement. "Well, it would seem that apparently he and Mr. Jordan decided to pull a little prank last night, and as it's Saturday, they are serving their detention right now with Professor McGonagall. It seemed she was the one who caught them. Though, your brother did put up quite a fight."

George did roll his eyes then. It was such a Fred thing to do. However, he did then inquire suddenly, "So...the waking up later thing...what does that mean?"

His smile wavering into that of a frown, the Healer replied, "Well...I cannot be certain for sure, but there have been cases before where instead of the gradual return of memory, as we have come to expect, one might fall into a come-like state for a few days, even weeks as the brain instantly flows all of the memories that have been lost back into awareness. I am beginning to wonder if...this might happen to you."

George felt like there was more to the story. "Let me guess," George said dryly. "It could be fatal?"

Mr. Rikialria's frown deepened. "No...not that..." George looked surprised. "What I'm worried about...is that sometimes when this happens it does the opposite of what it's intended to do."

George's heart went cold. "Meaning..." he stammered, though he was pretty sure he knew.

"You might lose your memory instead," he said grimly. "And when that happens, there is no hope of reclaiming them. Mind, you won't be in serious danger of dying, but, very rarely, it also can damage your brain further."

George felt sick. "S-So...I could be..."

"You could lose the ability to speak," he explained softly in a remorseful tone, "the ability to do simple tasks, you might even lose your sight." George felt dizzy, but Mr. Rikialria quickly rushed in. "Now, before you get yourself worked up, you should know that I'm only telling you this as a precaution. There is a very likely chance that you will never even get into that kind of situation, but I felt it best for you to know exactly what could happen, and hopefully that you will be more careful."

George suddenly looked at him strangely. "More careful?"

"I do not know the circumstances of which it happened, but your brain patterns are different than last time, suggesting that you must have hit or joggled it somehow."

The ginger grimaced. Grawp.

"I'll keep you updated," Mr. Rikialria continued, "but I must ask you to visit me everyday, up here in the Hospital Wing, at five." At George's questioning glance, he explained, "I need to keep close tabs on you to make sure that, should it ever happen, we will know."

He got the feeling that this coma-like-memory thing was more likely to happen than the Healer had let on. George nodded, but directed his gaze to the ceiling, his mind buzzing and feeling even more dazed. This was the position Mr. Rikialria left him in, and the position that Fred and Lee, hours later, found him in.

"_George!"_ Fred cried, sprinting forward and launching himself on the bed. George looked beyond startled, but he beamed brightly up at him as Fred grabbed him around the neck and hugged him. Lee appeared seconds later, looking relieved and hugged him too.

"Are you alright?" Fred asked, pulling back and staring at him with a mixture of worry and guilt.

But George was extremely distracted, his conversation with Mr. Rikialria still realing in his mind. "Hmm?" he hummed before he realised what Fred had asked him. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine..."_ Now,_ his mind finished. But for how much longer?

Fred, mistaking his distance as anger, suddenly began tripping over himself in his effort to apologise. "I'm sorry, this was all my fault, I shouldn't have dragged you to the Hospital Wing, I mean, you didn't even really need it, but I thought that your hand might be worse and I didn't wan -"

George had brought his extra pillow up and clapped it over Fred's mouth. "Blimey, you talk fast," he said amusedly, taking the pillow away. "I'm not mad at you, Fred. Nor you, Lee," he added as Lee hug his head a bit in guilt. "Honestly. You couldn't have known; you were only trying to help."

Fred then frowned slightly. "Then what's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter, Fred. I told you, I'm fine." He smiled broadly, but Fred could see that there was something clearly bothering him.

Fred narrowed his eyes. "You can't lie to me, George," he said seriously, sitting back and crossing his arms. George fidgeted.

"Mate, whatever it is, just spill it," Lee remarked as casually as he could, looking at him closely. Now that he focused, he could see that there was something bugging him too.

George looked down, sighing, "It's...it's nothing, honest, I -" but then he stopped as a sudden realisation hit him. He couldn't _not_ tell Fred if he had to visit Mr. Rikialria everyday. He was with Fred every second, and Fred would not let him out of his sight unless George had a good reason to be. He inwardly groaned; he really, _really_ didn't want to tell him.

Fred began to feel panic start to creep upwards. "George," he said in a hard voice.

"Just tell us, would you?" Lee demanded, quirking his eyebrow up.

"Alright," George rolled his eyes. "I have to see Mr. Rikialria everyday. Not to do our meetings," he added quickly to Fred's horror-struck face. "But, er, apparently after my meetings with Mr. Rikialria, I'm, erm, taking longer to wake up."

"What does that mean?" Lee asked urgently.

George's fidgeted again, knowing how Fred would take this - badly. "Well, er, it means that I _might,_ emphasis on the _might,_ fall into a...erm, coma-like state, where all of my memories might come back or...not at all. And there might be further brain damage." He said the last part really quickly and in an almost upbeat tone.

But his efforts failed spectacularly. There was a stunned silence when George finished. Fred's face was as pale as parchment, staring at his twin like he couldn't quite see him. George just wanted someone to say something, he felt a bit awkward underneath Fred's scrutinizing stare.

"Further damage..." Lee muttered, looking a bit dazed. "What do you mean by that?"

George internally groaned; he hoped no one would catch that. "Well..." he said slowly. "If it doesn't work, then I, er, might be unable to see or speak. Stuff like that." He tried to say it in as normal a voice as possible, but he knew he failed when he saw Fred's eyes widen in horror.

"What...what it the likelihood of that happening?" Fred finally croaked.

The younger twin was happy to truthfully tell him, "Mr. Rikialria said that it's not likely, and that he only told me as a precaution -"

"But if it's not likely, then why would he bother?" Lee demanded almost angrily.

George bit his lip; that's exactly what he'd been thinking. But the next thing he knew, his whole body was being crushed into Fred's as he hugged him tightly. George did his best to hug him back, but it was a little difficult as he couldn't move his arms very well. But he was able to pat Fred on the back and murmur into his shirt, "S'okay Freddie, doesn't mean it'll happen."

Fred pulled back, but said nothing. George felt suddenly worn out, like the stress of having to actually make those words come out of his mouth had been too much for him. And now that he thought about it - _really_ thought about it - he felt like someone had dropped an icecube into his stomach. What if -? But he stopped himself there, refusing to let the questions form. If he started losing faith, then Fred and Lee definitely would.

There was a sudden shift in his bed as Fred clambered over the side and helped George lie down. "You should sleep," he said softly, fiddling with the blankets so as to make sure he was comfortable.

Lee rocked on his heels, quickly realising that this was a 'family moment.' "I'll, er, I have to go to...that thing...you know," he smirked, walking towards the door.

Fred normally would have made fun of him, but he couldn't help but feel extreme gratitude. "Thanks," he said sincerely, feeling a tad awkward, however.

Lee grinned awkwardly back. "No problem, mate."

As soon as Lee had left, Fred climbed into bed next to his brother, who was a breath away from sleep. But before he did, he unconsciously curled up to Fred as if needing protection, and Fred ran his fingers through George's hair in the way he knew comforted him. He, himself, wasn't particularly tired, but his tense muscles relaxed as the realisation that George was safe and right beside him slowly sunk in. But it worried him that George was asleep, because he feared that George would slip into that coma.

Fred felt a burning in his eyes and he tried to blink ait away. _God, I'm never going to sleep again, am I?_ He looked down at George on his shoulder, and, for reasons he didn't quite understand, a lump formed in his throat. He swallowed it painfully, looking away and staring at the ceiling. It wasn't fair.

He still felt a bit taken aback, the information not quite sinking in yet, but there was one thing he was certain of: it wasn't fair. He smirked almost mockingly. _It just keeps coming, doesn't it? _he snorted, but he instantly sombered. Fred had never thought of anything happening to one and not the other before any of this had happened. Never thought that George could be taken from him. Never thought that he'd have to watch him suffer, and be unable to stop it.

He let out a long breath, ruffling his hair slightly. "It should've been me, you know," he said quietly, looking back at his twin sleeping sounding next to him. "I mean, it shouldn't have happened in the first place, but...if it had, I wish it'd been me instead. I don't like seeing you like this, Georgie. I don't like that you nearly died. I don't like seeing you suffer alone, and I _don't_ like that you...that this might all go away, that everything we've tried to rebuild might...collapse." He was silent for a few moments, looking at the ceiling almost contemplatively. "And I don't like that we're different now," he whispered quietly. "Not so much individually, but us as one person, because we've always been more 'we' than 'I,' and I don't like that everything that has happened is trying to make us less 'we' now. Raving, I know, but still. It makes me feel like fate, the universe, Trelawney's tea leaves, whatever, is trying to pull us apart." Because for the first time in their lives there was something that Fred could never understand about George. He could never fully know what it was like now to be in George's shoes, to have to start all over and go through all the trials he'd been forced to have this year. And George could never understand what it was like to watch.

Fred felt like someone had punched a hole in their little world, tampering with the synchronicity that the two had been born with. Because for once Fred couldn't read George's mind when it came to these kinds of matters, and it spooked him. He sincerely hoped that it stopped there, because the last thing he wanted was for them to grow apart. Once this was all over, they could put it behind them and go back to being one person again instead of being distinguished between the twin with memory, and the one without. He wanted to go back to before any of this happened, when he and George were carefree and absolutely, blissfully ignorant about the possibility of losing the other. But he knew they never could, at least not completely. There'd always be that part within them that would prevent them from doing really reckless things that they normally would have leapt at. There'd always be a more serious note when an injury occured, or when they would be in danger (let's face it, they're going to have to fight Death Eaters at some point), because they were now aware of the very real possibility of one of them dying. It nearly happened several times.

To return to that world, was impossible. That world was dead. But if George got better, if they could hold out long enough, they might be able to create a life similar to the one they left behind. But, Fred thought, it wasn't completely a bad thing. Now they could see and appreciate something they never truly knew they had. The twins had always taken advantage of being two halves of one whole, and now their eyes had been opened. Though, he wished it could have happened in a less heart stopping way.

He stopped his musings when he felt George shift slightly beside him, his face screwed up in a mask of almost pain. Fred frowned, adjusting their bodies until he saw George's face relax. The younger twin mumbled a few incoherent words before his hands curled a little in Fred's shirt as if to make sure he was still there.

The lump reformed in Fred's throat, and before he knew it he leaned down to kiss the crown of George's head lightly, careful not to wake him. "We'll get through this, Georgie," he promised quietly, his voice quavering. He cleared his throat out of embarrassment though no one was awake to notice. "I'll make sure of it."

And with that, he let himself close his eyes and rest, feeling suddenly sleepy.

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><p>George drifted towards consciousness unwillingly. He was so comfortable, so warm...he did <em>not<em> want to wake up. He buried deeper into his blankets and into the solid warmth beside him, but it was to no avail. As he grew more awake, he groaned at the weariness in his muscles and the ache if he moved even slightly.

"George?" a familiar voice whispered in worry.

George opened his eyes blearily and found Fred peering down at him in concern. "Hullo, Freddie," he said hoarsely, wincing a little at the soreness.

Fred himself looked pained, but he gave George a sad little smile. "How are you feeling, Georgie?" he asked softly.

Though George knew Fred knew the answer, he lied nonetheless, "I'm okay." He tried to look bright and cheery, but he couldn't move without cringing, so he let that go and just focused on not moving a muscle.

Fred sighed heavily. "I'm just glad you woke up."

Those words fell hard on George's ears, making him pale even though he was so sickly already. He didn't know why, but hearing Fred say that made his stomach churn in guilt and sorrow.

The older twin realised his mistake. "Do _not_ think this is your fault," he nearly growled. But then he softened. "I know you have a serious problem about that. Just relax, alright?" He combed his fingers through George's hair in a reassuring way, and his brother snuggled up closer, accepting Fred's words, if only for the moment. Right now, in his weakened, vulnerable state, Fred could tell him anything and he would believe it. Much like when you are very young, and whatever your Mum and Dad said was law. And with Fred's hand brushing through his hair, silently offering his protection, George could do nothing but trust him whole heartedly.

But just then George felt Fred tense, and he soon found why. Mr. Rikialria had come through Madam Pomfrey's office, and was looking at them sympathetically. George couldn't muster the strength to sit up, but Fred did. Careful not to disturb George's position, Fred propped himself against the headboard, and pulled his brother so he was tucked against him as he glowered at the Healer.

George, however, took a moment to feel sorry for him. It wasn't Mr. Rikialria's fault that he had to go through this, yet he couldn't help but feel a stroke of fear pass through him, effectively pushing all thoughts of compassion out of his mind. He trembled when he saw him approach, and Fred hugged him tighter, murmuring a low oath.

"How are you doing, Mr. Weasley?" Mr. Rikialria asked kindly.

It took a few seconds before George realised he had to reply. "Fine," he managed to get out.

Fred rolled his eyes in frustration. "He's in pain," he said, a little sharp. "And he's been sleeping a lot." His voice wavered a little on the last few words, and it was clear that Fred was frightfully worried that this meant that George might slip soon.

Mr. Rikialria nodded. "I figured as much. Which is why I brought a potion for him which will help to numb the pain." He withdrew a purple bottle and unstoppered it. George reached for it was shaky hands, and drank it all.

"But there is no need for alarm," Mr. Rikialria continued soothingly. "It is perfectly normal for George to be sleeping more in order to heal. He may have to stay here a few days, but he should be up and running soon enough. Now, before you fall back to sleep," he said gently as he noticed George's eyes had started to droop once more. "I am simply going to run my test, alright?"

"Wait," Fred said shortly. "Will it hurt him?"

The Healer shook his head. "Not at all."

Fred relaxed a little, and shifted his brother slightly so Mr. Rikialria would be able to get to him easier.

But Mr. Rikialria made no move towards George, and insead continued to look at Fred. "I'll need you to move."

Fred glared at him fiercely. "No. Can't you just point your wand?"

"Your brain patterns will interfere since you're so close," Mr. Rikialria explained patiently. "I must ask you to move."

Fred desperately looked at George, as if he could magically solve the problem by simply saying so. He couldn't bring himself to move, he _needed_ to feel George beside him to reassure himself that he was still alive, he was still okay.

George, his muscles pleasantly numb and surprisingly exhausted, had merely sagged into Fred during the entire conversation, feeling relieved that the pain in his body had gone. He hadn't a clue what was going on, but he felt Fred tense and shift towards him to look at him with anxiety. George, despite his fatigue, began to panic. "What's wrong?"

His brother's eyes, filled with such trust and worry, sent a roaring wave of protectiveness over his twin to coarse through him. George looked to him in his weakened state for support and security, for Fred to help and defend him for as long as he couldn't. And, as it was Fred, even longer than that. How could he leave him now? Even when it was something as trivial as simply standing a little ways away from him. It didn't make much sense when you got right down to it - what could possibly harm George if Fred just stepped a few feet away? But there was something deeper, something he couldn't quite explain, even to himself. He'd seen his brother, his best friend, go through too much. And he'd been unable to stop it. He couldn't move, when only physical contact reassured Fred that George was not dead, and that this wasn't a dream.

Fred glanced back up to the Healer. "Mr. Rikialria, I _can't,"_ he replied, his voice suspiciously close to begging. "I just can't."

"It'll only be for a moment," Mr. Rikialria said calmingly. "And then I'll be gone."

George, having caught on, seemed to deflate. Turning to Fred, he said in defeat, "Might as well get it over with." His expression was a little anxious.

"But -" Fred protested, eyes wide. But before he knew it, he was being pulled out of their bed by two Healers he had failed to notice before. He watched as George turned from anxious to downright fearful, and he felt the strong urge to shield him from that look, to make him feel safe, not scared.

George shut his eyes tightly as Mr. Rikialria held his wand over him and murmured words that were, despite their close proximity, _always_ too low for him to hear. But instead of pain that he'd steeled himself against, he felt only a curious, tingling sensation around his head. He opened his eyes slowly, not sure if he should keep them closed or not. But when he did, he saw nothing but Fred staring at him distressingly. George gave him a consoling smile.

And just a few seconds later, the Healer stepped away. Fred scurried to the bed as soon as he had taken a step back, wrenching himself from the Healers grasp, jumping into bed and at once tucking George into his side almost roughly. "Well?" Fred asked, his voice a bit resentful. His hand subconsciously began petting George's hair.

"This is only the first test," Mr. Rikialria replied. "I use this to compare other tests to see if his brain patterns show that he's heading towards being comatose or not." Fred stiffened despite himself. The Healer gave the pair of them an almost sad smile. "I will see you two tomorrow."

He had almost reached the door when both twins blurted out without knowing they were going to do so, "Thank you. For everything." Mr. Rikialria paused before facing them, smiling with a bit more warmth. They had never thanked him before. He didn't say anything, but the smile said it all. And he disappeared into Madam Pomfrey's office.

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><p>Reviews are lovely :)<p> 


	28. Float On

**Author's Note: **Thank you to **EricaX**, ******hachoo******,**** **Aris1013******,**** **DisgracedxMia******,**** **Spiralling-Down******,**** **DarthAbby******,**** **Centaur Watch******,**** **melkyre******, **www. purrtydino. org**, and **GryffindorGrl97 **for all for your wonderful reviews! And I mean they were _wonderful,_ it never fails to make my day when I see such positive feedback :)

I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything!

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

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><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

'_I backed my car into a cop car the other day,  
>Well he just drove off sometimes life's okay.<br>I ran my mouth off a bit too much oh what did I say?  
>Well you just laughed it off it was all okay.'<em>  
><strong>~ 'Float On,' Modest Mouse<strong>

It took four days for George to convince Madam Pomfrey that he was well enough to go. And the whole while, Fred had laid beside him day and night, tending to him whenever he needed it, and snarling at anyone that disturbed George in anyway or tried to make Fred leave. Madam Pomfrey would purse her lips whenever she caught Fred taking care of him, but she didn't dare try to make him leave. Not again. She had tried a couple times before, but he threw himself into such a terrible fit each time that she had to admit defeat. And Lee spent as long as Madam Pomfrey would allow him to; as he wasn't blood related, and not as volatile as Fred, she was able to force him out every evening, grumbling and muttering to himself.

But having Lee step outside of the Hospital Wing did have their advantages. Having to actually go to his classes, he had a few run-ins with Malfoy, which he gleefully told them about. Apparently Harry and Ron made good on their promise and were taunting him about Fred, George, and Lee's revenge. And not only that, everyone else was doing it too. He told them how if Malfoy ever happened to see Lee, he would run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

The two gingers were deeply satisfied about this, and found that they would have to step their game up in a few days before Malfoy started to relax. But there were more pressing issues at the very moment that George had brought up a day or two ago; they needed to pick out where their shop was going to be. They knew it would be in Diagon Alley, but it was technical location they weren't sure about. Which meant finding some way to sneak off campus to go visit a few places. But first, they had to know which places to visit.

"Aha," Lee murmured as he scanned through the _Daily Prophet._ They were in the Common room, as per usual, near the fire. George couldn't keep a stupid grin off of his face at _finally_ being allowed outside of that dull and rather depressing room. Not to mention the fact that he got to stretch his legs a bit before the three of them got to scoping out shops for sale.

"Anything?" Fred inquired, leaning back into his chair. He wasn't as in to the search as he ought to be. His eyes kept ping-ponging to George, worry still present even though his twin was out of the Hospital Wing. Fred couldn't help it, it was just part of his nature when it came to his brother.

"Hmm...well, there's a few, but judging by their pictures..." Lee made a face and tossed it into the fire.

"We'll just keep checking," George said. "There's bound to be _something_ sooner or later."

"How're you feeling?" Fred asked rather suddenly, staring at George intently.

Truth was, George had a headache and was surprisingly exhausted, but he'd be damned if he told Fred that. "Me? I'm fine," he said, attempting to sound chipper. It was an effort not to wince as his head throbbed.

"Okay, uh-huh. Now, let's try that again, but with a little more honesty this time," Fred replied, crossing his arms.

George rolled his eyes. He then smirked sarcastically and said in a faux enthusiastic voice, "Me? I'm fine!" Lee clamped the pillow behind him to his mouth to muffle his snicker.

"Don't make me come over there."

"Ooo, a whole step?"

"Prat," Fred chuckled, throwing his own pillow at him. "I'm being serious here."

"That's what worries me," George smiled crookedly.

Fred frowned. He didn't like that George thought that he couldn't tell him what was bothering him. If they were ever going to go back to the way they used to be, they would have to fix it. And better late than never, right? "Come upstairs," he said in a voice that left no room for discussion. He gave him a hard look to show that he meant it.

George looked surprised, as did Lee. "Fred, why don't you just leave it?" Lee offered a bit uneasily. He didn't like where this was going.

"No. George, lets go."

The younger twin felt a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. _Is this it?_ he suddenly, and irrationally, thought. _He's going to say he's done with me, isn't he? _

Fred was a bit alarmed by the look on George's face, the protective side within him telling himself to just drop it so his twin wouldn't look like that. But there was also the burning curiosity as to _why_ that won out. "Come on," he ordered, albeit a little gentler this time.

George slumped, glancing to Lee for help. But Lee simply shrugged, looking at a loss and uncomfortable. Eventually, George and stood and followed Fred dejectedly. "Um...Okay, I'll just wait here!" Lee called at their backs, sounding a little nervous.

Once the gingers reached their dormitory, George didn't look at his brother as he sat on their bed. _I guess I can't blame him,_ he thought to himself, completely unaware that Fred was watching him confusedly the entire time. _I mean, I probably wouldn't want to put up with me either._

"George, _what_ is the matter?" Fred asked almost frustratingly, sitting on the bed across from theirs.

George couldn't take it. "Oh will you just get it over with?" he demanded, though his face was a little pained.

Now Fred was _thoroughly_ confused. "What?"

George rolled his eyes. "You know what. Just get it over with so I can get out of your hair."

Fred narrowed his eyes. He had a horrible suspicion as to what George was talking about, and he was praying to God that he was wrong. "What do you mean by that?"

This, George thought, was cruel. Was Fred _really_ going to make George say it before he did? Glaring, he said without emotion, "I mean that I know that you don't want to deal with me anymore, so, I guess we're done here then?"

Fred's eyes went wide. Had George (again) _really_ thought Fred was just going to up and leave? It took him a few seconds to realise that George had stood and was heading towards the door. Without thinking, Fred launched himself forward and tackled George to the ground with a loud thud.

"_Oof,"_ George groaned, a pain in his back flaring up.

Fred didn't have time to apologise. He merely jumped off of him and yanked George to his feet. Yet just as George opened his mouth to yell at him, Fred crushed him in a hug. Stunned, it took a little while for George to realise that he had to hug him back.

The older twin didn't let go of him completely when they broke apart, and pulled him to their bed where they sat side by side. "You're an idiot, you know that?" Fred said a little gruffly, trying to speak around the lump in his throat.

"Erm...so I've been told..." George replied hesitantly, not quite sure what to do.

"George, _what_ do I have to do, huh?" Fred suddenly pleaded desperately, his tone throwing George completely. _"What_ do I have to do to make you stop thinking that I'm just going to get tired of you! I thought we cleared this up, Georgie! Why is it coming back?"

George gaped, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. He felt both incredibly relieved and embarrassed. The weight in his stomach lifted and he felt like laughing. But for the moment, his scrambled brain couldn't come up with an answer. "I...erm..."

Fred rubbed his face in an exhausted way before he looked at George with slightly red eyes. "You _need_ to let me in, Georgie," he said softly. "I don't know why you keep shutting me out, or why you keep thinking I hate you, but I can only think it's something I did."

George shook his head vigorously at that, finally coming up to speed. "No, Fred, it's...just me being stupid," he said, flushing a bit out of embarrassment. "I...I don't know, I just think that I'm not really worth putting up with this, I mean, you don't really need this in your life, and I just keep thinking that one of these days you're going to realise it too and -" he said this all really fast, like he'd been dying to get it off his chest but he hoped Fred wouldn't catch any of it.

But he did. And he cut him off by seizing George around the neck and tugged until George's head was nestled in the crook of Fred's neck. He kept a tight hold on him, lightly petting his hair. "You great prat," he said quietly, though filled with suppressed emotion. "If you didn't have a head injury I'd smack some sense into you. I _don't_ put up with you, Georgie. You're my twin. My other half whether you like it or not, and incase you haven't realised, you need to be whole to function in this world."

George's heart clenched at his words. He never really knew how desperate he was to be reassured yet again about their brotherly relationship, but here he was, feeling deeply moved and ashamed. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his guilt clearly shining through. "It's just kind of amazing to me that you don't just give up."

Fred snorted. "Clearly I need to teach you about family. I guess I just never thought that it would be something you forgot about as well."

George frowned, not quite sure what Fred meant by that, but he chose to settle with an, "Okay."

"First rule," Fred said, the rumbling in is throat alerting George to what he was saying more than Fred's voice. "You don't leave your family for anything. You stay with them no matter what."

George's eyebrows knitted together as he remembered something from Christmas break. "What about Percy?"

Fred scowled. "He doesn't count. Look, Georgie, the point I'm trying to make is that you're stuck with me whether you like it or not." His voice softened. "I don't want you to think anything else, alright? I'm not doing this because I have to, Georgie. I'm doing this because I love you. I'm doing this because I don't want to lose you." His voice was a little choked, but he tried to cover it up by clearing his throat.

George smiled, weak with relief, and wrapped his arms around his twin as well and hugged him. "I love you too, Freddie. And you won't," he said seriously.

Grinning, Fred suggested in a lighter tone, "Good. Well, now that that's all cleared up, why don't we put this behind us and go get Lee, eh?"

George chuckled as they untangled themselves from each other. "Reckon he's left yet?"

"Nah, he's lost without us," he laughed.

"I beg to differ," came a dry voice from the doorway. The two turned in unison to see Lee leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed and smirking.

"How long have you been there?" Fred asked, surprised.

"Just in time to hear that last little comment," Lee replied in amusement. "I just came up to see whether you ate George or something, but then I heard that nice little comment."

George rolled his eyes while Fred snorted. "Please. He couldn't feed a child," he said with a wink in George's direction.

"Oi!"

Lee laughed. "Good to know. Now," he continued, clapping his hands together, "why don't we make good on our promise, eh? Let's go torture Malfoy," he grinned mischievously.

"What should we plant in his head next?" George inquired, beaming. "I don't think he's suffered enough mentally."

"Too right you are, brother o' mine," Fred replied, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I suppose we could find him and pretend not to notice him, and then talk about some kind of deadly object or other. And make sure it's obvious that we're talking about him." His eyes gleamed dangerously.

"Perfect," George said happily. The three started down the stairs towards the Great Hall, when something hit the ginger out of the blue. "Wait, Fred, I just realised something," George said suddenly, pausing as he looked at his twin. "You haven't gone to any of the Quidditch practises! Merlin, Angelina's going to kill you -"

"George, it's alright," Fred smiled with amusement. "I resigned a while ago."

"You -" he stopped short as he let what he said sink in. "You _resigned?_ Are you mad?"

"Yes," Lee quipped.

But Fred simply shook his head. "Nah, I didn't want to play if you couldn't. Besides, I think worrying about you took up most of my time," he smiled crookedly.

George frowned. "Fred, that wasn't nece -" he began, but was cut off as Fred raised a hand to stop him.

"It wasn't fun without you, Forge," he shrugged. "And anyways, I barely paid attention. I'd just injure someone on the team anyways."

But the younger twin wasn't satisfied. "How come I never heard of it? And how are you still alive?"

"Well, most of the gossip circulated while you were recovering in the Hospital Wing the time before last," Fred told him, though his expression looked slightly pained. That had been when Fred had seen George suffer, and he knew right then and there that he couldn't possibly do Quidditch while his twin wenr through something like that. "And as for being alive..." he shrugged once more. "Weasley charm I suppose?"

Lee rolled his eyes. "Weasley charm my foot. I think Angelina just fancies George is all. Had it been anyone else, she would never have let Fred get away with it."

George's jaw dropped. _"Fancies_ me? I highly doubt that. I've barely spoken to her, and it was Fred who asked at any rate."

"You mean you don't _remember_ speaking to her," Lee responded cheekily. "And anyways, it was a bit obvious, ever since last year. She was always nicer to you than anyone else, which is saying something."

"But...Fred took her to the Ball!"

"Yes, but weren't you already going with Alicia? She probably would have gone with you instead had you asked."

"Oi," Fred called, feigning hurt. "You're wounding a very sensitive ego here." Truth be told, Fred never really saw Angelina as anything more than a friend, and he had to admit, he _had_ thought that Angelina liked George for a while. He just never got around to bugging him about it.

Lee snorted. "Sensitive is not the word I'd use to describe it, mate."

"Alright, moving on," George said hastily, his cheeks a bit pink. Both Fred and Lee laughed. "Where do you reckon the little bugger is?"

"Great Hall, I suppose?" Fred offered. "Eh, we'll wander about, make it up as we go along."

"Sounds good to me," Lee said. The three tromped down the stairs, hands in their pocket and looking about as nonchalant as they could. Although, they did whisper to each other the entire time. Most of it was just random sounds to make it look like they were discussing something, which nearly made them all break character and burst out laughing. But they knew they were achieving what they wanted when a few Slytherins eyed them warily, and everyone else seemed to whisper as they passed.

It had been Lee to spot Malfoy at long last down the corridor. "We can't let the git get away with it," Lee said, loud enough for a few people to hear what was being said. And certainly enough to alert Malfoy that they were there. The three of them were masters in whispering just so that everyone could basically hear, but make it look like they weren't trying to.

"Bloody sod nearly killed me," George growled, though on the inside he was howling. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Malfoy tense, and hide around a corner. He didn't have his lackies with him, which was odd, so he was even more cowardly than usual. "Hit below the belt, I tell you. Bloody wimp."

"I'll curse him myself," Fred said murderously, an evil glint in his eyes. The people around were trying to act like they couldn't hear them, but their faces burned with curiosity nonetheless. "He just made things personal. If I ever get my hands on him..." His voice trailed off as they rounded the corner, and they all had to use every ounce of their willpower not to crack up right there. They kept up their haughty exposure the entire way back to their dormitory, reverting to whispering random noises until they got into their empty Common room. And then they roared with laughter.

"Did you see the look on his face?" Fred gasped, clutching his stomach as he leaned on George for support as he cackled.

But George and Lee weren't fairing much better, their eyes nearly streaming from laughing so hard. "Looked like he wet himself," Lee guffawed.

"This is the best thing we've ever done," George grinned, wiping his eyes. "Git deserves it. Oi, we should tell Harry. He'd _love_ this."

"He could milk it too," Lee beamed. "Merlin knows that kid needs some sort of happiness in his life."

The twins couldn't agree more. "He's probably with Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall if he's not here," Fred said. "It _is_ lunch time after all." They went back down the stairs, pretending like they didn't notice the inquisitive glances shot their way.

George spotted them sitting in the middle of the long Gryffindor table. "Fancy seeing you lot here," he greeted, sitting down across from them. Fred and Lee sat on either side.

Harry gave them a knowing look and asked, extremely amused, "You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with Malfoy running down the corridors like a scared little girl, would you?" He sounded hopeful.

The twins grinned mischievously, their only form of an answer. Ron and Harry looked excited. "What'd you do?" Ron asked eagerly. Hermione pretended not to hear, though she had a look of disapproval on her face. It was an upgrade, though, as she wasn't saying anything against it.

"Oh, you know, he just overheard some things," Fred smirked. "And you have our full permission to torment him day and night."

"Excellent," Harry smiled broadly. "I've been meaning to get him," he said, an ugly look crossing his face.

Fred, George, and Lee looked sympathetic. "No worries, Harry. You will," Lee promised with a wink.

Harry nodded, but then he turned to George with a worried look in his eye. "How're you doing? I heard you were in the Hospital Wing for a few days."

Ron choked on his pumkin juice. "I didn't!" he cried. Hermione looked sympathetically at George.

The three fifth year students were suspicious of the way that Fred and Lee stiffened, both gazes latching on to George's face. George, however, looked nonplussed. "Fine," he shrugged, as if Harry had just asked how his classes were going.

Harry and Hermione had the sense not to press, but Ron did not. "Then why are they all tense?" he asked bluntly. Hermione kicked Ron under the table. "Ow!" he cried, rubbing his shin. "What was that for?"

"Drop it," she hissed, casting a worried glance at the three wizards sitting across from them.

"I just wanted -" Ron protested, but Harry grabbed a roll and shoved it in Ron's mouth. Ron looked both taken aback and irritated, which caused everyone to chuckle.

They all ate lunch and chatted together, no one mentioning George's stay in the Hospital Wing again.

* * *

><p>Fred and George, at quartre to five, found themselves walking to meet Mr. Rikialria for his daily check up of George. They were quite proud of themselves for remembering, since they had been submersed in an intense battle in wizard chess. Fred's pawn had just decapitated George's knight when the proverbial alarm sounded in George's head, reminding him of what time it was and where he should be heading to. Lee was off being Lee, scoping out Umbridge so they could use their supply of dungbombs later.<p>

"Hey Madam Pomfrey," the twins greeted simultaneously.

The Healer huffed. "First time you two had entred without _him,"_ she pointed to Fred, "wrestling _you,"_ she pointed to George, "into the room."

Fred and George grinned. "We felt it was a little underrated," Fred said.

"We wanted to spice things up -"

"Keep you on your toes -"

"Make sure we're not forgotten." Both gingers were wearing identical expressions of amusement. Madam Pomfrey, looking a bit confused as the twins had taken turns speaking, simply huffed again and departed to look after another patient.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley," Mr. Rikialria greeted, seeming to come from nowhere. "Come this way." George followed with Fred right behind, gripping on to his elbow as if to make sure he wouldn't slip away. He led them to the farthest bed and ushered George inside. He brought the drapes all around the bed so no one could see in. However, when he saw that Fred was attached to the other, he said as politely as he could, "I'm afraid you, Mr. Weasley, will have to wait outside."

Fred glared at the Healer and refused to let go. George, however, chuckled. He gently pried Fred's fingers off his arm as said soothingly, "It'll only take a few seconds. I'll be right out."

Fred sighed but gave in, stepping out of the range of the bed.

George sat still like he was supposed to, avidly watching Mr. Rikialria's expression to see whether what he saw was good or bad news. However, after a few moments, the slightest frown appeared on the Healer's face. "Er...everything alright?" He kept his voice low so Fred wouldn't come bursting in.

"I want you to spend the next day or two in bed," he told him, also in a low voice. "Rest your head, don't make any sudden movements, alright?"

George felt a sense of foreboding. "Why? Am I...slipping?"

Unfortunately, he forgot to lower his voice. They heard a strangled sound outside before the curtains were thrown open and a distraught Fred rushed in. He went right to George, gripping his shoulder as he stared at Mr. Rikialria, face ashen. "Is he?" he demanded.

Mr. Rikialria looked like he would regret saying this, but nevertheless, he said, "It would appear you have a little. Nothing major, but we need to do whatever we can to make sure you don't anymore. You can either stay in your dormitory, or here."

"Dormitory," George got out, his heart having sunk at Mr. Rikialria's words. And by the fingers that were digging painfully in to his shoulder, so had Fred's.

"I suspected as much," Mr. Rikialria gave a slight smile. "But I don't want you two to worry," he directed this statement more towards Fred, "it does not mean _anything,_ understand? This has happened before, and for most people, this is the most they ever slip. But, they followed my instructions," he gave George a knowing smile. "So I recommend you do as well." Both nodded vigorously. "I won't see you tomorrow, I just want you to rest. But the day after you may come visit, and then go straight back to bed."

"Thanks," George said, and Mr. Rikialria departed. Fred hadn't moved, but his hand was still grasping George painfully tight. "Fred?"

Fred's face was white. "You're not to leave your bed, you got it?" he said, his voice wavering slightly.

George grimaced. He barely spent a full day out of bed, and now he had to go back in it? But after looking at Fred's expression, he softened and replied, "Alright."

It soon became clear that Fred had reverted back to motherhen mode. He insisted on helping George out of bed, worried that he might somehow cause himself to slip further if he wasn't completely careful. And when they headed back to the dormitory, he made everyone take a wide berth, snapping at whoever came too close and nearly breathing down George's neck. He fretted the entire time, feeling like he needed to do something to try and make sure that George did not go any closer to being comatose than he was already.

George himself allowed Fred to do so, though he couldn't help but feel amused at the way his brother was acting yet again. When they opened their Common room door, they found Lee waiting for them amongst a large group of fellow Gryffindors. "There you two are!" Lee greeted cheerfully. But his upbeat mood soon vanished when he found Fred somber and rather overprotective of George; he nearly pushed everyone out of his twin's way as if he didn't even want them to accidentally brush up against him.

"Mate, what happened?" Lee asked Fred in an undertone as they headed for their dormitory.

"George is slipping," he said almost emotionless, his features stony.

"Not that much!" George protested at Lee's horrified look as their entred their empty dormitory. "Honestly, Fred, don't make a mountain out of an ant hill."

"_Ant hill?"_ Fred nearly yelled, sounding outraged. "George, this isn't _nothing!"_

"It's pretty damn close," George countered. "All I need to do is rest a bit and I'll be fine."

Fred rubbed his face slowly with his hands. "George, you are going to be the death of me," he groaned. "Don't you understand the severity of the situation? Do I have to explain _everything_ to you? _You're heading towards a coma._ You might never wake up! And if you do, you might lose all of your memory forever, and your brain might be damaged beyond repair! What part of that is 'nothing' to you?"

"Fred, calm down," Lee muttered to the older twin, not liking where this was going. "Think of who you're talking to."

"He's being a prat!" Fred argued, face red and angry.

However, George refused to rise up to the bait; the last thing he needed was a fight. "All I'm saying," he said patiently, though he didn't exactly feel it, "is that there's no point getting riled up when it might not even happen. Now, I'm going to go rest like Mr. Rikialria told me to. If you want to yell at me, fine, but don't expect me to pay attention." He headed towards their bed, pulling the drapes around him for the first time in months.

Fred slowly felt his anger subside; he wasn't angry at George, more like the situation they were in. But he felt a small wave of panic that George was angry at _him._ Or worse, hurt. Anxious, he walked silently over to their bed and pulled back the drapes. "George?" he said hesitantly, seeing his twin's eyes were closed. However, he tell by his breathing that he wasn't asleep. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, eyes wide and pleading. "I shouldn't have snapped at you."

George opened his eyes and looked at him. He shrugged. "S' fine. I expected it to come out at some point." He gave him a crooked smile, but Fred almost wished he would yell at him.

He sat on the bed and George's gaze drifted to the ceiling. "I didn't mean any part of that, you know that, right?" His voice was slightly frantic.

"Mhmm," George nodded, though he continued to look at the ceiling.

"Georgie?" he implored desperately. "Look at me." George did so, though Fred couldn't tell what he was thinking. His expression was closed off. "I'm _sorry._ Please don't be mad at me, you know I can't stand it when you are."

George, after a few more moments of his face remaining blank, rolled his eyes and smiled. "Feeling's mutual," he grinned.

Fred looked relieved. "Good. You gave me a heart attack there."

The younger twin chuckled, and then patted Fred's side of the bed. "C'mon, you and I both know you're not going to leave, so might as well make yourself comfortable."

Fred grinned back and clambered over George's feet to lie down. They laid there in silence for a few minutes before Lee poked his head in, looking nervous. "Everyone still alive?"

"No," the twins answer simultaneously, smirking.

"Okay," Lee beamed, moving to sit on the end, facing them. "You know, I really hate it when you two fight. But at least it takes all of, say, three seconds before one of you starts tripping over yourself to apologise." He paused. "It's usually Fred."

Fred threw a pillow at him, and snickered when it made contact. "Shut up, git."

George shook his head. He got the feeling that the next two days were going to go by really quickly.

* * *

><p>Reviews are lovely :)<p> 


	29. Bobcaygeon

**Author's Note: **Thank you to** EricaX**, ******hachoo******,** Aris1013**,** DisgracedxMia**,** Spiralling-Down**,** melkyre**,** DarthAbby**,** Blue Luver5000**,** Yay for Yaoi**, **Anonymous Reviewer**, and** Centaur Watch **for all your FANTASTIC reviews! I love reading them :)

And I'm sorry if this chapter is a bit short and kind of badly written, but I haven't had much time to edit as I have Mid-Terms next week :/ But I hope it's okay anyway!

**Disclaimer:** See chapters 1 through 28 :P

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**Bobcaygeon**

'_That night in Toronto, with its checkerboard floors,  
>Riding on horseback, and keeping order restored,<br>'Til the men they couldn't hang,  
>Stepped to the mic and sang,<br>And their voices rang with that Aryan twang.'  
><em>**~ 'Bobcaygeon,' The Tragically Hip**

"How are you feeling, Georgie?" Fred asked anxiously to the lump beside him.

George rolled his eyes and turned over to look at his twin. Fred was sitting up, his shadow looming over George from the faint glow of the moon. "You've asked me that every three minutes for the past hour. What makes you think it'll be different this time?" He had a look of amusement on his face.

Fred fidgeted. Truth be told, he just asked the question to make sure that George hadn't slipped into a coma while he laid there. Night time made him exceptionally nervous. "Er..."

George smiled softly. "I'm not comatose, Fred," he said gently. He knocked on his head lightly with his knuckles. "Still present."

"But what about when you're asleep?" Fred asked distressingly. "What if you slip in your sleep? What am I to do then?"

"And what if Voldemort bursts through the door and kills us all?" George replied patiently. "You can drive yourself mad with all these what-ifs, or you can just relax and get some sleep."

Fred sighed. "I can't do that. I'm scared, Georgie."

George sat up. "You don't have to be. Remember, I _barely_ moved from my 'normal' brain patterns or whatever it is he judges. Just get some sleep, Freddie. You're tired." Fred shook his head as George laid back down, carding his fingers through George's hair. "Fred," George said exasperately, looking up at him. "You're going to sleep at some point, you can't stay awake forever."

"Yes I can," Fred replied childishly, a small pout forming.

George gave up. "Well, I don't see how you staying awake will help anything, because _I'm_ going to bed," he remarked, rolling on his side.

Fred poked him. George ignored him and attempted to sleep. Fred began to poke him incessantly, in the ribs where he was ticklish, on his back, his neck, anywhere that was showing. "Fred!" George nearly snapped, turning to glare at him. "Cut it out."

The older twin didn't say anything, but stared at him. But as soon as George rolled back over, Fred started up his poking again. George threw his hands up in annoyance and glowered at his brother again. "I'm _tired!_ You should be too! And anyways, Mr. Rikialria said I needed _sleep,_ which you are keeping me from!"

Fred frowned, but still he said nothing, and simply looked at him. George sighed. "Look, I _promise_ not to fall into a coma, okay? Does that make you feel better?" He felt like he was trying to bargain with a five year old.

Apparently, that was all Fred needed. He beamed brilliantly and said cheerfully, "Night Georgie!" and prompty laid down as if their dispute had never happened.

George was left looking bemused, but he simply shook his head and rolled over. He learned long ago to just go with it.

* * *

><p>Tap.<p>

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap -

"What!" Fred groaned into his pillow, sounding miffed. He lifted his head a fraction to see George grinning down at him, the culprit of the irritating noise.

"Rise and shine, Freddie," he said brightly, though there was a definite mischievous note to his voice. "C'mon, up and at'em."

Fred groaned again. "Go away. I'm tired."

"Yeah, well, that was your own fault, wasn't it?" George smirked evily. "And if I recall correctly, you _were_ the one who said you could stay up forever..."

"Go away, you prat," Fred mumbled, burying his face deeper into his pillow. "Aren't you supposed to stay in bed anyways?"

"I don't feel like it," he replied in an up beat tone, bouncing a little on his heels. He was full to bursting with energy, and he needed to get rid of it somehow.

Fred's eyes pinged open at that and he shot up. "You get your arse right back in bed and rest, George Weasley," he said fiercely. His hair was all mussled up, his clothes half rotated, his face pale and bags under his eyes. He looked like the living dead. So, naturally, George burst out laughing.

"S-Sorry," he gasped at Fred's annoyed expression. "I can't take you seriously when you look like that."

Fred's lips twitched in amusement despite himself, but he refused to be swayed, and sombered up almost immediately. Though, the brief slip didn't go unnoticed by George. "I don't care! You get back in that bed or I will bind you to it."

"_C'mooooonnnnnn,"_ George whined. "I'm going to explode if I don't do something!"

The older twin paused. He knew that the Weasley twins were never one to stay put in one place for too long before they started to squirm. He sighed. "Fine. But you are getting in bed _right afterwards."_

George beamed exceptionally wide, clearly ecstatic that Fred was letting him. "'Course!" he answered jovially.

Fred found his mood lighten considerably; George's happiness was contagious. And it wasn't soon before he found himself grinning alongside him as they made their way downstairs.

Lee, however, looked a little stunned to see them. He had gone down to get breakfast and bring some back up for them. "What are you doing out of bed?" Lee demanded, but then he turned to Fred. "And what are _you_ doing _letting_ him out of bed?"

"He's going stir cracy," Fred replied. "We have to find some way for him to release his energy if we ever want him to sleep again."

"I'm guessing Quidditch is out of the question?" George said, knowing full well what the answer would be.

Both Lee and Fred shot him a glare. "Completely," Fred replied firmly.

"Well what then?" George asked almost desperately. If he didn't do something soon, he'd go running all over the place. A lightbulb suddenly went off in his head. _Running. _"Wait, what if I go running? I can't possibly joggle by brain that way!"

The two other wizards hesitated. "Can he?" Lee asked, unsurely.

George was bouncing from foot to foot. Fred shrugged. "Might as well give it a shot. But you're having breakfast first," he added, looking at George.

"Won't that make him sick?" Lee asked.

Fred cursed. "Fine. But as soon as you get back you're eating a horse, you got that?" George was looking a bit thin these days. Now that he thought about it, so was he.

George's beam was back and he promised he would before he took off. Fred felt nervous having George somewhere where he couldn't watch him. And when Fred and Lee sat down, his anxiousness continued to grow, and he fidgeted the entire time.

"F'ed, 'elax," Lee said through a mouthful of bacon. He swallowed roughly and continued, "George will be fine. He'll come right back, exhausted and ready to sleep the rest of the day." He then paused. "You know, you haven't been in class for at least a month. You might, er, want to do something about that."

Fred snorted. He didn't care about his classes. As far as he was concerned, NEWTS were not worth the strain of studying. OWLS Fred and George had to pass in order to do anything, but NEWTS were optional. Many people left school after their sixth year. In fact, they would have done just that if their tyrant of a mother didn't chew them out for even thinking of it. "I'm sure Mr. Rikialria can straighten it out. Besides, I don't really plan on staying until exams."

Lee looked surprised. "Really? But what about your Mum? Won't she feed you two to merpeople or something?"

The ginger smirked. "Not if she can't catch us. You wanna come?"

"Nah," Lee shrugged. "I like living. And honestly mate, my Mum's worse than yours. She will _actually_ kill me. Think she broke my brother's leg when he skipped. She hasn't talked to him since."

Fred raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? Do you still talk to him?"

"'Course," he replied. "But secretly. If my Mum ever found out, I'd end up on his doorstep faster than you can say 'Quidditch.'"

"Ouch," Fred said sympathetically. "Sorry, mate."

"No big deal," he grinned. "But I won't say no to helping you two out."

Fred smirked. "Didn't think I had to ask." They ate the rest of their breakfast in a companionable silence, neither one uncomfortable. He didn't get to be the twins' best friend for nothing.

When they finished, they grabbed as much food as they could manage for George to eat later, and headed up to their dormitory to wait for him. Fred's worry had been forgotten while he talked to Lee, but now that he sat on their bed and waited, he felt it creep up on him.

But Lee was there to pacify him. "Just relax," he said repeatedly in a calming tone. "He'll be back in no time."

It felt like hours to Fred, but Lee patiently told him it had only been one, and that George would be back any minute. He started to squirm, pacing up and down while Lee watched him expasperately.

"He shouldn't be taking this long," Fred muttered, hands clasped behind his back as he paced. "He wouldn't have enough energy to go for more than an hour, especially with his head injury. God, what if he's hurt?"

"Fred, you're overreacting," Lee remarked. "He probably just ran into someone."

But that only sparked Fred's concern. "Yeah, and what if that someone is Malfoy? Or Snape? Lee, we have to go find him."

Lee grabbed the ginger's arm. "Fred, just wait another hour. It's not entirely abnormal for someone to run this long."

"And what if he's bleeding to death?" Fred snapped, wrenching his arm away. "Or he slipped into a coma?"

"Just calm down!" Lee ordered, making him sit on a bed. "One more hour, and then we'll start looking, alright? Don't work yourself up when it's probably nothing."

"I don't want to bank on probably," Fred grumbled, but he forced himself, despite his better judgement, to stay put.

It took forty-five minutes before George burst through the door, sweaty and out of breath.

Fred was the first to act. _"George!"_ he cried, rushing forward, a look on intense relief on his face. "What took you so long?" Lee came forward just after Fred did, looking just as relieved even though he had acted like he hadn't.

"Got...lost..." he gasped sheepishly, his hands on his knees as he bent over, trying to catch his breath. "Wasn't paying attention...took ages...to find...the castle..."

Fred's face was full of worry, his eyes wide. "Were you alright? Where did you go?"

"I was kind of...daydreaming..." he confessed, still panting. "Wasn't paying...attention...wound up in the forest...deep in it..."

Fred's face paled dramatically, gripping George's shoulders so he stood upright, and frantically searched him for injuries. "Oh God...did you run into anything?" he demanded anxiously. His heart sunk at what he possibly could have seen.

"Nothing really," George replied, his breathing finally returning to normal. "I out-ran whatever came after me. It's surprising how fast you can run when you're scared out of your knickers," he chuckled.

But Fred grabbed George roughly in a hug before he could get another word in. "You scared me, I started thinking that someone or some_thing_ got you when you didn't come back." He really _hated_ when George was somewhere where he wasn't. And he didn't like how scared George had been.

"You're sure you're alright?" Lee asked, looking concerned himself. George nodded, but then Lee noticed the scrapes on his arms. "Oh, crap, you're bleeding."

Fred jerked backwards faster than anyone had ever seen him move, eyes latching on the cuts to his arms and cursing himself for not noticing them before.

"Am I?" George asked, sounding surprised, looking himself over. "I didn't notice."

Fred moaned, closing his eyes. "I shouldn't have let you go." He felt utterly responsible.

George rolled his eyes. "Yes, you should have. I'm all worn out now," he grinned. But Fred continued to look distressed, looking at George like he had just injured his twin himself. "Fred, it's no big deal," he said soothingly. "I just let my mind wander. Now, I know not to."

That didn't help at all. He started to fuss, like he did when there was nothing else he could do. Fred fiddled with George's shirt like a mother would to try and get it straight. Then, ignoring George as he rolled his eyes again, focused on the cuts. Most were shallow, but a few looked a bit deep. "We should clean those," he said softly.

"Fred -"

"Are you injured anywhere else?"

George sighed, giving up. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"I think so," George shrugged, "I don't hurt anywhere else."

Fred grimaced, but pulled out his wand. He muttered a quick spell and the blood on his arm disappeared and the cuts instantly started to heal.

"Thanks," George smiled.

Fred gave him half a smile back, but he still looked upset with himself. Then he pointed to the pile of food on the bed and ordered, "You start eating, Georgie. I expect you to eat _all of it."_

George shook his head; he didn't know what else he could do. He shot Lee a desperate look as he went to the pile of food, not particularly hungry. Fred went to follow, but Lee caught his sleeve. "No so fast," he said in an uncharacteristically serious tone. "Come with me."

Fred looked confused. "Um, why?"

"Now," Lee ordered.

"But -" Fred protested, gesturing towards George's lump in the bed. He didn't want to leave him alone.

"_Now Fred."_

If it wasn't so strange for Lee to be serious, be probably would have refused. But, as it _was_ strange, he followed mostly out of surprise. They went into the Common room where lucky no one was there, as everyone else was at class. He vaguely wondered why Lee wasn't, but he figured Mr. Rikialria could write him off as well. "What's up?" he asked as they sat down.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lee demanded.

Fred was even more confused. "Erm...talking to you?"

"I mean upstairs," Lee said, not amused. "Why are you taking the blame for everything? It's frustrating, you know that? Fred, you couldn't help _any of it."_

"Yes I could've," Fred replied despondently. "Look, it's my job to keep him safe, alright? I should've known not to let him go alone, that's how one of us always gets hurt."

"Fred, you're not a bloody Seer. Stop taking responsibility for things you can't help. You're ruining your relationship with George."

Defensive anger suddenly flared up within Fred. He glowered at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Lee refused to be swayed by Fred's glare. "He feels guilty when you overreact like this, so he doesn't want to tell you anything. But then you beg him to talk to you, and when he does, or something happens, you overreact again and blame yourself! Fred, he's never going to let you in at this rate." He said the last part gently.

Fred slumped in his chair, all fight gone from his body. He knew Lee was right, but it was hard not to worry. "Lee, I watched him almost die too many times to not freak out," he said quietly, sounding defeated.

Lee patted him on the back. "I'm not saying you shouldn't be worried about him, in fact, I don't think it's the worry he minds. He minds the fact that you keep blaming yourself when something happens to him. Fred, you know it's not your fault."

"Isn't it?" Fred murmured under his breath, however, Lee heard.

"No it's not!" Lee said exasperately, getting frustrated all over again. "Do you think it's George's fault that he got hit, then? That it's his fault Malfoy went to the Ministry of Magic to try and get him sent to Azkaban or something? That it's his fault that he has such extensive brain damage?"

"No!"

"Why not? He should have known, shouldn't he?" Lee scoffed. "He should have seen it coming."

Fred narrowed his eyes and growled, his anger coming back in spades. "It's not his fault. Don't you dare tell him that." He'd kill Lee if he made George feel guilty.

Lee shrugged, unfazed. "I'm just using your logic, Fred. Apparently you should have know George would end up in the forest. So, George should have known he'd get hit by the Bludger."

The ginger snarled, his eyes blazing and his teeth bared. Misreading his friend's intentions, protectiveness washed over him in furious waves, making him want to punch Lee for indirectly attacking his twin. He didn't realise in the moment what Lee was actually trying to do.

And Lee saw that pretty quickly. "Mate, I'm not having a go at George. I'm trying to get through your thick skull that your 'logic' is completely mental! If you wouldn't blame George for what happened, you're mad for blaming yourself. _No one_ could help the fact that Malfoy and his prat gang are bloody sadistic."

Fred and Lee stared at each other as Fred let himself slowly calm down. And then he began to digest what Lee was trying to say. Lee could almost see the wheels in his head clicking, and he crossed his fingers.

He didn't say anything for a while, which Lee didn't know whether to interpret that as a good or bad thing. And then, he sighed and gave a small smile. "I guess you're right. For once."

Lee gave a laugh, relieved that this was all over. He hated it when the twins fought, but he disliked it even more when he fought with one of them. "You actually admitted I'm right. For once," he responded cheekily. "Nice change."

Fred rolled his eyes, but he felt distinctly happier and...lighter. The guilt thing was really weighing heavily on him. But then his eyes went wide as he realised that George was alone upstairs. And Merlin knows what damage he could do to himself left unattended. This afternoon's situation proved that. He took off upstairs, hearing Lee close behind.

He burst through the dormitory door, expecting to see George dangling out of the window or his leg broken. And when he saw nothing of the sort, he allowed himself to breath and pick out their bed. It took a moment for Fred to figure out which one was theirs, as the drapes were shut, most likely due to the daylight. At the foot of the bed was the pile of food, not looking like George ate very much of it, which Fred wasn't happy about.

Fred pulled the drapes back, and found George lightly dozing, though he looked troubled. His eyebrows were knitted together, and he seemed to be muttering to himself, like he was trying to figure something out in his sleep. Fred padded quietly on to the bed, careful not to make much of a dip as he awkwardly crab-walked in place. He laid on his back, same as George, though his brother's face was tilted slightly away from him. The older twin ran his hand through George's hair softly, trying to smooth out the worry that seemed to plague him right then. And Fred was pretty sure, after his talk with Lee, that he was worried about him taking the blame all of the time.

He didn't know it bothered him so much, but he smiled slightly when George started to relax as he petted his hair. Fred crawled under the covers slowly, trying not to disturb George's position. He gently pulled George towards him until he was curled into his side, safe and comfortable. George's face was completely relaxed then, looking peaceful, and Fred felt a little sentimental.

Lee suddenly peeked his head in, smirking at Fred and his position. "Comfortable, are you?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Are you coming to make fun of me, or are you going to sit your arse down and relax?"

Lee made a show of deciding, tapping his chin. "That's a hard decision, mate," he said in a mock serious voice.

"If George wasn't sleeping in the other pillow, I'd throw it at you, git." Lee grinned and clambered gracelessly on to the bed. "Oi!" Fred protested. "You'll wake him up!"

"Too late," came a mumble from Fred's shoulder. Fred glared at Lee, who gave him an amused apologetic look.

George groaned, rubbing his eyes and looking up at Fred blearily. "When di'you get here?" he slurred, his eyes drooping closed again.

Fred smiled and ruffled his hair. "A few minutes ago. Can't help that Lee's about as light on his feet as a bulldozer, though."

"Oi!"

George chuckled, his voice rough from sleep. "M'tired," he yawned, snuggling up in Fred's side subconsciously.

Fred grinned stupidly, feeling a rush of affection for his twin just then. He hugged George tighter, ignoring Lee for the moment. George fell sleep pretty quickly, his breathing becoming slow and even. He felt protective, watching over his brother while he slept. He always got like this when George was asleep. Fred would snap at anyone who disturbed him, save for this one time with Lee, since his friend _had_ put everything in perspective for him.

But as he mused, his train of thought suddenly stopped and started down a different track, one he had never contemplated before. What role would he play when George _did_ get his memory back, assuming that everything went right? George wouldn't need him as much, but how was he supposed to adjust? George would probably call him a sap and become the old, loveable pain in the arse he had always been. But what would happen to _this_ loveable pain in the arse version of George? Would Fred lose this one now in return of the old one? Fred loved both versions of his twin...he didn't want to lose either one, even though technically the old version was temporarily lost.

Fred frowned deeply. He didn't like that, not at all. And with a pang in his heart, he realised he might lose them both if he slipped into a coma and didn't wake up the right way. He felt sad, he didn't want to lose any part of who his twin was, but could he be a happy medium of both? Fred didn't know, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find the answer.

He tried calmed himself by running his hands through George's hair, his sorrow surprisingly strong. Fred was...afraid. He was afraid for the time to come when the universe would decide which George to give him, and which one he might lose forever. He shook his head violently as if these thoughts would fall out of his head if he shook hard enough.

Lee stared at him like he had gone off the deep end. "Er..."

Fred flushed in embarrassment, grinning awkwardly. "Sorry, weird stuff happens when I let myself think," he joked.

Lee rolled his eyes. "You mean the fact that you can think at all?"

Fred stuck his tongue out at him. "Prat."

They talked for a while until George started to stir. He groaned like he did last time as he woke, opening his eyes slowly.

"Mornin' Sleeping Beauty," Fred chuckled.

"Hullo," he yawned, not caring about the jab.

"Hungry?" Lee asked innocently, having noticed the lack of a dent in the pile of food as well.

"Hm?" George sounded, confused for a moment as he sat up and stretched. "Oh. Not really."

"Well too bad, you're eating," Fred said firmly, glad Lee remembered. "You barely ate anything when you got back."

"I'm really not hungry, gu-" but his speech was stopped as Lee crammed a biscuit in his mouth, shutting him up.

He glared as he made to spit it out, but Lee had his wand out. "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep that in," he threatened.

George merely sat there with it in his mouth, not eating it or spitting it out, just glowering. Fred tugged on his hair until George tilted his head to look at him. "Eat it," he said, giving him an imploring look.

George huffed, looking put out, but he began to chew nonetheless, wincing a bit at the amount. Fred looked happy, and Lee dove off the end of the bed to get more food. George's glare came back and he covered his mouth as he swallowed painfully.

"Open up," Lee demanded, holding a piece of toast.

The younger twin shook his head, continuing to glower. "I'm not bloody hungry," he said, annoyed. Though his voice was muffled by the hand over his mouth.

Fred frowned and poked George's stomach. "You're becoming as scrawny as Harry. Eat it."

George rolled his eyes. "We're identical, you tosspot. If I'm scrawny, then so are you. And unless you want me throwing up all over you two, I suggest you stop force feeding me."

"If I eat, will you eat then?" Fred wagered.

"No. Lee, shove a biscuit in his mouth!"

Lee grinned evily, and before Fred could react, a biscuit was crammed down his throat. He choked a little as he tried to spit it out, but both George and Lee pointed their wands at him, beaming. "Ah, ah, ah," George wagged his finger at him. "Eat it," he imitated Fred.

Fred rolled his eyes but after a few moments he chewed and swallowed it with difficulty, cringing.

"Hah," George smiled widely. "Now we're even." But then, Fred and George shared a quick glance, identical faces of mischief.

Lee's eyes went wide. "No, don't you dare -"

The twins lunged. And by the time they stopped to breathe, the entire dormitory was covered in food.

* * *

><p>Reviews are very welcomed :)<p> 


	30. Cough Syrup

**Author's Note:** Ahhh! Mid-Terms are OVER! :D And now that I am momentarily stress-free, I thought I'd celebrate by posting this chapter :D A huge thanks to **GeorgieForever**, **Punzie the Platypus**,** Ziva Lou**,** EricaX**,****Centaur** Watch**, **melkyre**, **Aris1013**, **DisgracedxMia**, and **Blue Luver5000**for you amazing reviews :D Honestly, each one was fantastic and they made my day :)) I hope you all like this one too!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything but this story I made with J.K. Rowling's characters :P

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**Cough Syrup**

'_If I could find a way to see this straight,  
>I'd run away,<br>To some fortune that I should have found by now.  
>And so I run now to the things they said could restore me,<br>Restore life the way it should be.  
>I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down.'<br>_**~ 'Cough Syrup,' Young the Giant**

It wasn't long before Fred, George, and Lee found themselves halfway through March. Mr. Rikialria had written them all a note excusing them for their absences, but to their chagrin, he didn't write them off for the rest of the year.

So, in was on a Monday when they slumped into their first period class - Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Decided to show up, have we?" tittered Umbridge in a sickly sweet voice as soon as they walked in . They had forgotten how annoying it was. They merely stared grumpily at her, fighting back yawns. "Well, I'm afraid that that is inexcuseable behaviour, and it cannot go unpun -"

"We have a note," Fred snapped.

The entire class had gone silent, both out of shock that they actually came to class, and that they were talking back to Umbridge; resistance had been sadly lacking since their absence.

Umbridge face twisted like she smelled something particularly nasty. "You have a what, Mr. Weasley?"

"A note. Excusing us from our absences," Fred smirked smugly, handing it over. It was scrutinised by Umbridge carefully, the disgusted expression increasing with every passing second. "No punishments today, eh? Too bad. You know how much we love those." Lee snorted at that.

George leaned over and snatched it out of her grubby hands after a few seconds too long of her staring at it. "Thank you very much, Dolores," he said sweetly, "we'll take our seats now."

Many peopke snickered as they passed, giving them winks as they went. Fred, George, and Lee sat at the back of the class, leaning in their chairs with their hands behind their heads, leering at her.

Umbridge couldn't do anything about it, and she knew it. Her face was uglier than usual, though that false smile was still in place. But it looked sinister suddenly, and Fred narrowed his eyes. "Like I was saying," she smiled, "very nice for all of you to join us. Especially you, George, considering your...mental disabilities. Should I speak slowly for you to understand? I don't want you to feell, ah, out of place."

The note. It must've said something about George's brain on the note. They didn't actually look at it very closely themselves. They were just told what it was for and left it at that, though they assumed Mr. Rikialria had simply said 'medical issues' or something along those lines. Not get specific.

There was a stunned silence that rippled through the classroom. Half stared at Umbridge like she had just murdered a cat, while others whipped their heads to gauge George's reaction. George had become very still, and Lee was red with anger. But it was Fred who commanded their attention very quickly. He stood up abruptly, jogging their table and having his chair fall back with a clank. His face was red as well, hands clenched, and his eyes showed nothing but hate, and it was clear that he wished nothing but an extremely agaonising death for her.

"Keep your cool," Geogre whispered shakily, tugging on his twin's sleeve, though he was very white in the face. But that was enough to send Fred over the edge.

"You're pathetic," he snarled, his voice so venomous that several people shivered. "You know _nothing_ about what he's been through, and you dare have a go at him? You're nothing but a sadistic, cruel person, and you _disgust_ me."

Everyone didn't move a muscle. George's fingers were frozen on Fred's cuff, and everyone stared at Umbridge. "My, my, you do have a temper," she sneered, not seeimg fazed by what Fred said. "I think detention for -"

George shot upwards, pushing Fred behind him to stand in front as if protecting him by shielding him from view. "I'll take it," he said calmly, no emotion showing. "I _was_ the one you insulted, after all. If Fred wasn't quicker, I'd be in his position."

Fred was taken aback for a second, until he realised what George was saying. He growled loudly and furiously. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" he hissed in rage, trying to push George back down.

George ignored him, locking eyes with Umbridge, his features immoveable. She obviously loved the fury on Fred's face, and her lips unfurled in a hideously malicious smile. "Very well, Mr. Weasley. My office. Tonight. And many nights after that." George looked strangely satisfied; at least he'd spared Fred.

"Like hell!" Fred roared, his eyes wild. No one, save for George and Lee, had ever seen him lose control like this. "You are _not_ making him go _anywhere!"_ He was literally trembling, he was so enraged.

"Fred, just leave it -"

Fred turned his scorching gaze on to George, and his twin could almost see the fire burning within his blue eyes. But George gave a withering glare back, warning Fred not to push it. George was hardly serious about a lot of things, but when it came to something like this, saving his twin from pain, he was not to be tested. It seemed they glowered at each other for ages, no one quite sure what was passing between them, but they all hoped (save for Umbridge) it was the right message.

And then George muttered low enough for only Fred to hear, "You are not going to suffer for me." And he was adamant.

Fred's anger melted away instantly at his words, his eyes suddenly becoming wide and pleading. He didn't want George to suffer anymore than he'd already had to. George softened at the look, but he merely sat down, ending the matter.

For now.

Fred remained standing for a few more moments, staring down at George until Lee got up and pushed him down. He glared at everyone, daring them to say a word. If they did, he'd punch the living daylights out of them. Luckily, no one seemed to be making fun of them anytime soon. Instead, they all glared murderously at Umbridge, some people clenching their own fists in fury. Those few who did obviously knew what her detentions were like.

"_Hem hem,"_ Umbridge cleared her throat, smiling widely. "Now that both Weasleys have _kindly_ stopped disrupting my class..."

Fred almost got up again, his anger coming back in waves. _Disrupting her class?_ He didn't even know what she was saying anymore, he was just so furious. But George remained emotionless, occassionally offering him comforting words. Though when Fred looked at his face, it remained blank, like they were simply talking about the weather.

It worried Fred a bit, wondering what exactly he was feeling. And then he began to fret over whether he was ticked off at him. Well, at least it gave him something to focus on rather than the injustice of what happened. He would keep casting glances at him, but each and every time, George remained the same. "Are you okay?" he whispered, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

George nodded, but he still remained indifferent. Fred looked to Lee, who had also been staring at George. He shrugged slightly, not knowing what was wrong either, or what to do about it. Fred sighed; he liked it a lot better when they could just laze around all day.

George meanwhile, wasn't thinking about much. He didn't mind the detentions as long as he got to take Fred's place. And he certaintly was not going to show any emotion and give that bitch the satisfaction of knowing she got to him. She already got a rise out of Fred and Lee (especially Fred), but she was not going to get one out of him. But what she said...mental problems, being slow...they all slapped him repeatedly. _I'll need more than a teacher to slow down if I slip into a coma and come out of it the wrong way,_ he thought miserably. But he yanked himself away from those thoughts. He couldn't think like that. He couldn't let her win.

So he sat there, face blank, looking almost bored as she droned onwards. But he knew it annoyed her since she would glance at him and find him disinterested, and her face would get uglier for a few moments. He felt Fred's gaze on him, and then Lee's, but he couldn't look at them. Discussing what happened showed weakness while she was around. And he would not be weak. He would go to detention and slice his hand open without a sound. If he was lucky, without even changing from his emotionless mask he wore now either. He inwardly smirked at how frustrated she would get then.

Fred didn't know what to do. Something must be wrong if George was this stone-like. He couldn't be dwelling on what Umbridge had said, could he? Anger licked his insides, burning upwards into his throat as if fighting to get out, but he held his tongue. Umbridge would surely punish George further. He winced. George was taking _his_ detention. He couldn't allow that. Not George. Not for Umbridge. Yet, Umbridge had already chosen him. And no doubt she'd come up with a way to make sure they couldn't switch. If George _didn't_ go to however many detentions she would assign him, it would turn out to be worse for him.

Fred felt like no matter which way he turned, he didn't seem able to protect George despite how badly he wanted to. He tried, but George would either be a noble git, or it was something neither could help. But so far, Fred had failed at every single attempt.

When the period ended (thank Merlin) Fred instantly turned to his brother, finally able to talk to him freely and hopefully lessen the anxiety he was getting from wondering whether he was angry at him. But George must have started packing early, because he had already started towards the front. Right to Umbridge.

Fred panicked, yanking his bag off of the table and taking after him. "What time tonight?" he heard George ask. Umbridge leered at him.

He yanked George backwards, and Lee ran up fast enough to catch him as he staggered. "Leave him alone," he ordered viciously. "Let me take the damn detention for Merlin's sake!"

"Oh no, Mr. Weasley," she said sweetly, "I don't think the message sunk in deep enough the last time. You need to learn to hold your tongue." She looked at George. "You are to be at my office at seven."

"Fine," George retorted. "Let's go." He and Lee pulled on Fred's robe until he stopped glaring at Umbridge and followed.

But Fred wasn't done. "George, you can't do this," he begged.

"I can," George replied simply.

Fred caught his arm, forcing him to halt. "Georgie," he said softly.

"What do you want me to do?" George asked. "I have to go or she'll do something worse, like, oh I don't know, take some tips from Filch. String me up by my ankles or something. You know how he loves to threaten people with that."

"Georgie," Fred repeated, his voice pained.

"Don't," George said, giving him a small, reassuring smile. "Now, what class do we have now?"

* * *

><p>Fred fretted and fussed the entire way to Umbridge's office, fruitlessly pleading with George to let them switch. Lee tagged along as well, mostly to keep Fred company while they waited because Fred would <em>not<em> go back to the dormitory. And Lee would _not_ wait by himself in the dormitory to find George bleeding to death or something.

"For the last time," George said exasperately, though there was also amusement in his tone. _"I'm_ going in there. _You_ and Lee can wait outside or go back to the dormitory."

Fred pouted, getting more frantic as they got closer. "George, it's not to late," he said, a little panicked, his hand already latched on to George's arm. "We can say you're sick. Or injured. Or...hey! Mr. Rikialria could write you off so you don't have to go!"

"And how long do you reckon it'll take before she declares another Decree saying that you can't do that?" George asked, corking up an eyebrow. "I'll be fine. S'not like I've never done this before."

Lee frowned. "None of us like this, George," he said somberly. "You shouldn't have to go when she had a go at you. We should get her fired or something."

George sighed. "She's the Minister's minion. She's basically untouchable." They reached Umbridge's office at his words. He paused, before giving the two a crooked smile. "See you in a bit."

Fred looked distressed, and Lee didn't look much better. George opened the door without knocking, not extending that pleasantry, and closed the door, hearing it automatically lock. His disinterested expression in place, he walked over to Umbridge, who was smiling sweetly at him. "Let me see your hand." He held out his scarred hand for her inspection. Satisfied, she ordered, "Sit down."

George sat at the desk specifically for him, the Blood Quill already waiting to be used. He picked it up without a word, and began to write. It wasn't like it was hard to remember exactly what he had to engrave in his skin; it was there on his hand for him to copy. It began to sting almost immediately, the blood forming droplets after a few minutes. But, he managed to keep the emotionless expression on as he wrote. He was quite proud of himself.

After a little while, he looked up to find Umbridge staring at him, annoyed. George smirked mockingly at her and gave a little wave before he began writing again. Really, considering everything else he'd painfully endured, it wasn't so bad. The blood trickled down his wrist and pooled on the desk, leaving smears on the parchment. "Can I have a rag?" George asked pleasantly. "All this blood is starting to blur the words."

There was a loud bang on the door, and George's eyes widened as he heard shouts; Fred must have heard.

Fred had been near the door, listening for any signs that George needed him. Lee was trying to tell him to get away, but Fred looked anxious. And then he heard, "Can I have a rag? All this blood is starting to blur the words."

For half a second, Fred's heart stuttered to a stop and dropped to the bottom of the earth. He looked horrified, but then he saw red. With a strangled cry, he threw himself at the door, ready to break it down and kill her. Lee looked sickened, but he yelled, "Fred, don't!"

He let out such an unintelligible string of profanities that Lee had no idea what he was saying most of the time. "Bloody sadistic piece of - going to KILL - SODDING bit - GEORGE - goddamn -!" Fred's face was so red his freckles stood out white.

"FRED! You - can't - do - anything!" Lee shouted, panting in his effort to keep Fred at bay.

But then there was a different, muffled voice. "Fred! Fred, it's alright!"

_George,_ Fred realised with a start. "George!" his voice sounded wrecked, his eyes burning.

"I'm okay, Fred, no need to worry," George said soothingly.

"But the blood!"

_Crap._ "Not that bad, Fred, honest."

Fred started banging his head against the door, the burning in his eyes getting more intense.

"_Hem hem." _George turned to find Umbridge smiling in a terrifying way. "Should we let your brother in?"

George's heart stopped. "No!"

Fred, having not heard what Umbridge said, lost it at how panicked George sounded. _"GEORGE!"_

"I think we should," Umbridge smirked.

George glowered. "Over my dead body." He couldn't let Fred and Lee see how much blood there was. He couldn't allow Lee to see him like this for the first time, or Fred to witness it again. Besides, knowing her, she could decide to give them quills too. George quickly turned towards the door and ordered, "Lee, get yourself and Fred back to the dormitory!"

Outside, Lee froze and Fred started freaking out.

"Stop!" Umbridge snapped, moving swiftly towards the door. Oh how she loved watching those two suffer, and she didn't want George to ruin it.

"Lee, NOW!"

It was George's frantic tone more than anything that had fear take Lee over, grabbing on to Fred and dragging him hurriedly away. Fred kicked and hollered, fear taking over him as well, but for his twin. "GEORGE!"

George heard Fred's bellows sound farther away, and he felt relieved. He turned to find Umbridge glaring at him. "Whoops," he smirked. "I guess they got away."

"Sit," she snapped.

He fought back a sigh. He could tell he was going to be here a while. But he suddenly thought of something. Could it work twice...?

* * *

><p>Lee had to drag Fred the entire way back, yelling over Fred to curious bystanders that everything was fine.<p>

"_Let me go!"_ he screamed, thrashing about.

"George - said - to - go - back," Lee gasped, holding him long enough to say the password to the bemused Fat Lady.

"I DON'T CARE!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as well as the other Gryffindors present, looked up in shock as Lee heaved themselves through the portrai hole.

"Help!" Lee panted.

Hermione jumped up nervously, not quite sure what to do, while Harry and Ron rushed forward to try and calm Fred down.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Umbridge...George...blood...told to go..." Lee wheezed.

All three looked stunned. "Is he alright?" Hermione asked urgently.

"NO!" Fred hollered, elbowing and kicking everyone on top of him. _"GET OFF!"_

"Fred! George obviously wanted us gone for a reason!" Lee cried frustratingly. "It sounded like she wanted to do something to us!"

"And what if she tortures him because we left?" Fred snarled, unleashing a hard blow to Lee's torso.

"That's mental," Ron said, white in the face. 'She...she wouldn't _really,_ would she?"

"We have to tell someone about this," Hermione insisted, looking exceptionally worried and infuriated. "We can't just let that...that _toad_ get away with it!"

"She'll just issue anouther Decree," Harry said miserably.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but Lee interupted her. "He's right," he said somberly. "It's only a matter of time until she takes over this school."

"But Dumbledore," Hermione protested. "He would never give Hogwarts up to her!"

"If the Ministry backs her up, she can do pretty much anything," Lee replied.

But Fred, seeing that they were all distracted, gave a tremendous shove and all three sprawled on the floor. He jumped up, glowering murderously, before he took off. Without a second's thought, they all ran after him.

Fred flew down the stairs, his feet barely touching the ground as he sprinted towards Umbridge's office, anger and adrenaline fueling him forward. He didn't even skid to a stop before he burst through the door, the fact that it was unlocked not even registering in his mind as weird. But he knew something was up when he collided hard into a body very much like his own.

He heard a painful grunt, and his eyes went wide. Fred scampered off the body and found George on the ground, staring up at him. "George," he breathed, reaching down immediately to haul him up and hug him tightly. "I'm sorry," he mumbled sincerely.

"S'okay," George said back as he gently pried him off.

"Wait, how -?" Fred suddenly said, looking around for Umbridge. He found her on the floor, unconscious.

"Stunning spell," George smiled weakly. "Gotta love 'em."

Fred smiled back, relief on his face, until he caught sight of his hand. George's hand looked like someone had taken a chain saw to it, something he and George had seen a while ago in their Dad's Muggle-Invention stash. He paled and grasped it, feeling sick as he felt the warm blood cover his own hands instantly. "Dear God," he said softly, looking disgusted. He glanced at the table as well and found blood all over it too. It looked like a murder had taken place.

"Fred!" Lee burst through the room, breathing heavily with the rest of them close behind. "What -?

"It's fine," George said. "Fred came in after I stunned her."

"What?" Hermione gasped. "You attacked a teacher?"

"The man had to," Ron retorted. Then he paused. "You did have to, right?"

George rolled his eyes. "Yes, Ron. Hermione, if you could erase her memory? I don't think she'd think too kindly of me when she wakes up." Hermione nodded and made quick work of Umbridge.

"Merlin," Lee suddenly went white. "That's...blood..." he stammered, looking aghast.

Everyone seemed to finally notice George's hand, his clothes, the desk, the floor, Fred's hands...everything. Harry seemed the most affected, other than Fred and Lee, since he had been through what George had. Ron looked horrified, and Hermione looked like she might faint.

"Was someone masacred?" Ron blurted out. Hermione hit his shoulder.

Fred gripped George tightly on the arm, staring at him anxiously. "We have to get you to the Hospital Wing," Fred said, his voice quavering badly. "You lost...that's a lot of blood."

George didn't think it was wise to disagree, so he merely nodded, and gave a wan smile. "It doesn't even hurt," he told him reassuringly in a soft voice. Fred looked tormented.

He walked out of the room, keeping his hand away from him only so he wouldn't get his clothes even more ruined. His head pounded painfully, and he raised a shaky hand to grip it. The world spun suddenly and he fell, but Fred let out a cry and launched forward, catching his twin before he hit the ground. "George! George, oh God, say something!" Fred begged frantically, his eyes burning again. He pushed George's hair away from his face. "Georgie, please say something."

George's eyes fluttered open slowly, his face very pale. He was still dizzy, and he saw three anxious Freds. "Something," he smiled half-heartedly, though he looked a bit embarrassed with himself. His eyes drooped and he found himself very lightheaded.

Fred looked agonised, but he said nothing at first as he gently lifted him up and hugged him to his side. "Are you okay to walk?" Fred asked worriedly.

"M'fine," George slurred drowsily, his head bobbing. All he wanted was to sleep. Fred shot a terrified look at Lee, whose feelings were mutal.

He put George's left arm around his shoulders, instructing Fred to do the same with George's right arm. They then wrapped one of their arms around George's torso, bent their knees, and put their other arm underneath each of his thighs and lifted him up.

"M'kay," George murmured, his head lalling forward as they began to walk. "M'...M'fine, don'...don'...jus'..." George's head fell forward as he lost consciousness.

"Georgie?" Fred asked panickedly, stopping.

"He's fainted," Hermione said shakily. "We should hurry."

Fred and Lee began sprinting, not bothering to be gentle; they were too afraid. They reached the Hospital Wing in record time, kicking open the door. "MADAM POMFREY!"

Madam Pomfrey jumped, and spun around around, gasping. "Oh dear -! What happened?" She rushed forward, and was sickened to see the blood on his hand.

"Umbridge," Fred spat murderously. "I think he's lost a lot of blood."

She looked furious, but she kept her voice even as she said, "Put him on the bed."

Fred and Lee gently laid George on the bed. Madam Pomfrey rushed into her office and came back with a couple of potion bottles which, at closer inspection, were labelled, 'Blood Replenishing.' She unstoppered all of them and tilted George's head back so she could pour each one down his throat. When she was finished, everyone waited with baited breath, and then George's body was covered with a red light. It lasted for a few moments, until it faded gradually. The blood on George's hand had cleared up, and colour returned to his face. Fred grabbed George's good hand and stared anxiously at his twin's face, silently begging him to wake up.

It took a minute, but George's eyes fluttered open once more, and instantly latched on to Fred's. But before he could do anything else, Fred threw himself down and hugged him, a dry sob racking from his chest as he leaned into his shoulder.

George hugged him tightly after a few seconds of being startled, whispering consoling words to try and calm him. Lee and everyone else held themselves back until Fred let go. "You're okay, I'm okay, Umbridge is still dead to the world..." he said this in a suggestive tone, making Fred give a watery chuckle, though he still refused to let go.

Lee couldn't take it anymore. "Out of the way," he said, elbowing Fred aside as he hugged George tightly. "Gave me a heart attack, mate," he murmured, pulling away and ruffling his hair, grinning. That set the stage for everyone else to rush forward and hug George simultaneously, causing him to squak in protest as the air got pushed out of his lungs.

Fred allowed this for a few more moments before he practically threw everyone else away, his nerves on their last thread. He clambered into the bed without another word, sitting in front of George and staring at him like he might achieve something if he looked long enough.

George's eyebrows knitted together with concern as he sat up. "Are you okay, Freddie?"

Fred said nothing, but instead moved his gaze to George's hand, which had stopped bleeding but still held the angry, red lines reading, _Rulebreakers deserve to be punished._ His eyes traced every letter, willing each one to disappear.

Lee, having the brilliant sense to see that they needed to be alone for a moment, cleared his throat loudly and said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "Oi, get moving you nosy sods, out you go." He ushered them out of the Hospital Wing without much trouble, though they all were demanding what the deal was.

Every patient around them was unconscious, so the two had absolute privacy. "Fred," George warned, "don't you dare start feeling guilty, or I might have to slap you."

The older twin finally looked up and his eyes were torturous, making George's heart clench. "Freddie, I'm alright," he said softly. "No need to look so upset, honest. Umbridge won't remember she gave me detention in the first place so I won't have to go back."

"You shouldn't have had to go in the first place," Fred replied sorrowfully.

George smacked him. "What did I say? Did you make me volunteer myself? No, I did. And anyways, if you hadn't said something back there, I would've. It was eventual, really."

Fred still looked afraid and sad. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his eyes scrutinising George's face in case he lied.

"Yes," he smiled. "A little tired and I have a bit of a headache, but otherwise, I'm perfectly fine."

Fred crawled up beside him and forced George to lie down completely. He pet his hair, though his hands were shaky. "Why is it always you?" he asked.

George laughed, depsite Fred's tone. "You know, it's been a while since I asked myself that question," he grinned. "I just figure it's like my right of passage."

"Right of pasage?" Fred inquired, confused.

"You know, for when I get my memory back. Every possible terrible thing that could ever happen is happening now so that afterwards we can live worry free lives, and the worst injury I ever get is a paper cut. And the worst thing you'll have to worry about is whether or not you'll get married before I do, which will probably won't happen."

Fred laughed. He truly laughed, hearing his brother laugh with him, and feeling better than he had in a while. "Interesting thought, dear brother o' mine," he grinned back. "But I _am_ the better looking twin, so it'll be me who gets married first."

George hit him again, chortling, "We're _identical,_ ya berk! Are you sure you know what that means? Besides, have you forgotten? I _am_ injured and all..."

"Sympathy dates?" Fred chuckled.

George shrugged good-naturedly. "Call it whatever you like, but all I hear is the word 'dates.'

Fred laughed at that, but he sombered after a little bit. "You scared me, you git," he said, trying and failing to smile. "A lot. There...there was so much blood, George," he said softly, sounding fearful. "How could one hand bleed so much?"

He felt George shrug beside him, sitting up once more. "I really have no idea. It seemed a little ridi -" but then he paused, a horrible thought sweeping over him.

"What?" Fred demanded, worried.

"You...You don't think...could Umbridge have...done something to speed up the bleeding? It's never been this bad before, and I wasn't even in there for too long."

Fred felt his stomach drop, his heart stuttering to a stop. "George..." he said seriously, his voice shaking a bit. "Did she turn her wand on you?"

George frowned. "No...she...if she did do something, she must've done it to the quill...or while I wasn't looking."

The older twin swore loudly, making fists with his hands. He seemed too outraged for words.

George patted Fred's shoulder consolingly. "I stunned her, Fred, everything's alright."

Fred's anger merely transformed into fear. "It's not alright, George," he whispered. "She could've killed you. Georgie...if you hadn't...if I couldn't..." he stammered.

"But I had, and you did," George said patiently, leaning over to give him a one-armed hug. "Fred, you know I'm okay, don't you?"

"You're not," Fred said brokenly. "George, I'm so scared that one day I'm going to wake up and you're going to be in a coma, or...or gone, or...or dead..." His eyes burned once more and he looked away.

George sighed unhappily, leaning back into his pillow with a thump. Fred looked down at him, and was surprised to find him looking tormented. "I don't want you so be scared, Fred," George mumbled sadly. "Maybe...maybe you should -"

Fred slapped a hand to George's mouth, fire in his eyes. "Don't you dare," he warned almost angrily. "You are _not _going to distance yourself now, George Fabian Weasley."

George raised an eyebrow. "Is that my middle name?" Fred nodded. George suddenly grinned. "It sounds funny. What's yours?"

"Gideon."

George grinned wider. "That's brilliant. What's Ron's?"

"Billius."

"Bill's?"

"Arthur."

"Char-?"

"Oh, enough!" Fred chortled, amused. "Just...don't think about cutting yourself off from me, Georgie," he said, sounding more serious. "Because I will hunt you down."

His twin finally sighed again. "I just...I don't like what kind of affect this is having on you, and I just thought that if you didn't have -"

"If you were about to finish that sentence," Fred interupted in a deadly tone, "with 'to put up with me,' I swear, falling into a coma will be the least of your worries."

"But -"

"George!" Fred cried. "For Merlin's sake, man, do you not use your common sense? George, _I do not put up with you._ And I will start every conversation that way if you don't somehow get that through your ever-thickening skull."

George eyed him for a few moments before he spoke very quickly so Fred didn't have time to interupt. "You wouldn't have to be so sad if I wasn't there to make you miserable and it's not fair for me to push all of my bad luck on you!" He then shrank back into his pillow, which was now propped up against the headboard, and waited for his reaction.

Fred looked like he was about to explode. "_GEORGE!"_ he roared, furious and frustrated. "If I wanted to bloody get rid of you, I could have let something kill you and claim that there was nothing I could do about it! Don't you bloody understand you prat? _I. Don't. Want. You. Dead. _I don't want you gone, I don't want you in pain, and I don't bloody want you to think like that! For crissake, the way you're talking you'd think I told you I hated you! Why is it that everytime something happens, no matter _what_ I tell you, you think that somehow you made it so inconvenient for me that it's a wonder I stuck around? You know what's not fair? Yes, that all of this has happened to you, but that you doubt me so much!" He looked right into George's eyes. _"Why_ do you doubt me do much?"

"I...it's just..." George stammered. "You...it's just easier that way!" he cried. "It's easier for you to have gone than to stay! And I almost wish you would so you won't have to deal with all of this!"

Fred's eyes turned from blue to blazing red. But then he forced himself to calm down, and took a lot of deep breaths; if he continued shouting, they were never going to get anywhere. "George, have I ever once said that I wanted to go?"

"No, but -"

"Have I ever been happy when you got hurt?"

"No, but -"

"Have I _ever_ told you I was tired of you?"

"No, but -"

"Then _what_ in Merlin's saggy pants makes you think anything else?"

George sighed. "I don't know," he said in defeat. "I just don't like seeing you so upset all of the time. And I don't like that it's because of me that you're upset. I just wish you never knew about any of this."

And that's when it clicked inside of Fred. This wasn't about anything Fred had done, or George thinking that Fred wanted to leave. This was about George trying to protect him. He was trying to keep away the scared look from Fred's eyes like Fred had wanted to do for him. George was trying to protect him from the emotional pain, whereas Fred was trying to protect _him_ from the physical. And it took just now for him to realise it.

His entire face softened completely, feeling touched about what George had been trying to do. Exasperated that he had tried to do it, but touched all the same. "George, I think I've just figured out what you're doing," he said gently, the change in his tone confusing his twin. "You don't need to protect me from anything, you tosspot," he smiled. "It's _my_ job to protect _you_ right now, so don't go trying to return the favour by trying to get me less attached." He gave him a one-armed hug and ruffled his hair. "Understand?"

"I suppose so," George said finally. " But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Deal," he smirked. He thought back to their previous conversation. "You know, our middle names came from our Mum's brothers who died in the war."

George's eyes went wide. "What war?"

"Oh, shoot, that's right, you don't know. Well, do you remember what I told you about You-Know-Who?" George nodded. "Well, before we were born, and even until we were two, the wizarding world was split between wizards who supported him, and wizards who didn't. Our Mum's younger brothers fought in that war, and died. So, she named us after them, sort of. There's a reason we're named Fredn'George, and why my middle name's Gideon, and you're is Fabian." He smiled widely. "Twins, you know."

George looked ecstatic that he found something new out about themselves, despite the fact that their Mum's brothers died. He looked like he just found out that Santa Claus existed or something, and that made Fred beam.

"They were twins too?"

"Mhmm," Fred nodded.

"Their middle names weren't Fred and George, were they?"

Fred burst out laughing. "I don't know, actually," he grinned in amusement. "Be funny if they were, though."

There was a pause. "So what _is_ Charlie's middle name?"

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><p>Reviews make me happy :) If you don't mind :)<p> 


	31. Drops of Jupiter

**Author's Note: **Thank you to **GeorgieForever, Centaur Watch, DisgracedxMia, Native Ayako, Dark Calamity of Princess, Aris1013, EricaX, melkyre, 93 Diagon Alley, and Blue Luver5000 **for your fantastic reviews.

To **Dark Calamity of Princess:** understand what you mean, and I'm glad you brought it up because others probably are thinking the same thing. The reason I haven't switched things up, have Fred get hurt while George becomes the helpless one, is mostly because it's been done a lot before. Nowadays the stories about Fred and George are 99% George writing a letter to Fred or dealing with the pain of living without his twin, and I just thought it'd be interesting to see what would happen if the roles were reversed, that Fred became the helpless one. That's usually how I work with characters, I don't know why :P I kind of go for the underdog, in this situation, George, because in the actual series he has to live on without Fred with him. So I kind of like to give a different perspective for any of those who think along the same lines :P I hope that makes sense!

On another note, you guys have been asking what Charlie's middle name is and I've searched endlessly for it and got a bit confused :P Once site said his middle name was Gawain, while another said Wimbledon. I personally like to think it's Gawain because it flows better, but you can decide for yourselves :)

**Disclaimer: **I'm running out of ways to say I don't own J.K. Rowling's characters :P

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

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><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**Drops of Jupiter**

'_But tell me, did you sail across the sun?  
>Did you make it to the Milky Way,<br>To see the lights all faded,  
>And that heaven is overrated?<br>Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star?  
>One without a permanent scar,<br>And then you missed me,  
>While you were looking for yourself out there?'<br>_**~ 'Drops of Jupiter,' Train**

"Have you ever stopped and looked at the other when something was happening to them, like they got punched in the face or something, and think, 'so that's what I would look like if that happened'?" Lee asked as he ate a piece of toast the next morning.

Fred and George exchanged amused looks. "Not really," they chuckled in unison.

"Like now, make weird faces at each other," Lee instructed, wielding a butterknife. "Both of you, I don't know, stick out your tongue and pull on your ears."

The twins grinned and enthusiastically and did what they were told. They had to try hard not to laugh.

"See! There! Now you know what you look like when that happens. Haven't you ever thought about that?"

"No," Fred answered, highly entertained. "But there's also this thing called a mirror."

George snorted into his pumpkin juice, nearly choking as he laughed. Fred thumped him on the back, winking at Lee. "Oh, whatever," Lee rolled his eyes.

"Well, at least we know how you'd spend your time if you had a copy," Fred grinned.

"So, wait, am I the copy of you, or are you the copy of me?" George asked once he got the pumpkin juice out of his lungs.

"You're the copy of me, as I _am_ older," Fred smirked.

"By what, 3.5 seconds? And anyways, I'm the better one," George said with a mischievous look. "Face it, you were lost those few miliseconds when I wasn't born."

"Ah, the good old days," Fred sighed dreamily.

"Please," George scoffed playfully. "What would you do without all of the fun I bring?"

"Sleep soundly?"

"Oh ha ha," George said sarcastically. "Lee, who would you say is better?" Both twins looked expectantly at him.

"Oh, no," Lee shook his head, holding his hands up. "I'm not getting in the middle of this. I've seen what you two are capable of."

"That's his way of agreeing with me," George remarked cheekily.

Fred rolled his eyes. "You're a pain in the arse, you know that?"

George shrugged happily, pushing his plate away in a sign to say he was finished. Fred frowned disapprovingly. "You barely ate anything."

It was George's turn to roll his eyes. He was _full._ "Just because I didn't eat five times my weight in food doesn't mean I didn't eat anything," he responded, shaking his head in amusement.

"Five times your weight in food is like two pieces of toast," Fred countered.

"Funny," he replied sarcastically. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks Mum."

Lee snickered. "You guys are worse than an old married couple."

Both gingers mock glared at him. But then George sighed dramatically at looked at Fred. "I guess the secret's out," he said mournfully.

"Dammit," Fred swore, banging his fist on the table. "And here I thought we were doing so well. Ah, well, Lee won't say anything," he grinned at their friend.

Lee rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, just get all of the laughs out now, mates, because Merlin knows we won't have any once we get to Umbridge's class."

That sombered both twins up. Fred instantly went red and George shot Lee a _'shut up!'_ look. Lee realised his mistake instantly and smacked himself on the forehead.

Fred looked on the verge of a terrible fit, and George had to work fast if he wanted to keep him from blowing up. "Fred, don't worry," he said in an attempt to be soothing, though it was hard of a transfer right then. He patted his shoulder and watched his face carefully. "We're all fine, remember?"

Fred glanced down at George's still red-outlined scars and fire danced in his eyes. "She won't be," he said murderously, clenching his fists tightly together.

"Mate, don't do anything," Lee said, alarmed. "Don't rise up to the bait, she'll just punish George, and you know that."

The older twin buried his face in his hands, propping his elbows on the table. "I don't know what to do anymore," he said miserably.

George gave him a one-armed hug. "Don't do anything," he said kindly. "It's not worth it."

Fred lifted his head to look at him, pain shooting across his face. "I _can't,_ George," he replied despairingly. "I can't just do _nothing._ I can't watch that...that _thing_ torture you again." His voice cracked near the end.

"We just have to not give her a reason to," George replied bracingly. "She doesn't remember yesterday, so if we just all shut up in her class, no matter how much she goads us, she won't be able to do anything about it. Even the Minister, with _her_ as his right hand, has some morales. He won't let someone get tortured for no reason. And with Dumbledore still here, she definitely _can't."_

Lee nodded vigorously, mostly due to the desperate fact that he wanted to snap Fred out of his melancholy. Fred sighed, "Alright," even though he knew wanted to argue that Umbridge made students carve words into their hands and Dumbledore didn't know. Though, to be fair, they probably weren't helping since they weren't going to him either.

"Well, time to go," Lee said after a few moments of silence. They walked slowly towards Umbridge's classroom, loathing and reluctance increasing with every step.

"Decided to show up, have we?" Umbridge said in the same sickly sweet voice she had used yesterday as soon as they walked in. The students who were already present look confused, and stared at the four of them. "Well, I'm afraid that that is inexcuseable behaviour, and it cannot go unpun -"

"We, er, have a note," Fred said, sounding a bit surprised; he forgot that he'd have to show it to her again.

And, as expected, Umbridge's face morphed into a strained look, like she was trying to smile while looking disgusted at the same time. "You have a what, Mr. Weasley?"

"A note. Excusing us from our absences," Fred smirked, handing it over and finding this amusing. George winked at the students who gaped at them, their conversation verbatim from the class before. Lee worked on mouthing what was going on in a nutshell behind George's back to their classmates.

Umbridge stared at it like she was waiting for it to perform some sort of trick, her smile vanishing as her look of revulsion grew.

George leaned forward and picked it out of her large fingers, knowing she wouldn't give it back willingly. "Thanks," he smirked mockingly. "We'll take our seats now, unless...you have anything to say?"

Silence. "Didn't think so," Lee snorted after a moment's of silence. The three walked to the back, seeing people try to contain their laughter and looking deeply impressed.

They resumed their usual positions in their seats, leaning in their chairs and smiling tauntingly up at her.

However, there was one part of the conversation they had unfortunately forgotten about in their smugness of getting one over on her twice. Her expression changed to malicious, and the entire class suddenly realised what was about to happen. "Like I was saying," she leered, "very nice for all of you to join us. Especially you, George, considering your...mental disabilities. Should I speak slowly for you to understand? I don't want you to feell, ah, out of place."

George and Lee had the sense to look nonchalant, like Umbridge had just commented on the weather. And Fred remembered to hold back his emotions as well, though there was a certain rigidness in his features and a slight tremble of fury in his hands. Though, only George noticed as they were under the desk.

"No, no, go ahead, I think I can keep up," George responded casually, not looking affected at all.

"Should we slow down for you, _Professor_ Umbridge?" Lee asked, feigning concern. "That remark was a little out of the blue, if I do say so myself. Perhaps you're imagining things?"

The class, bless them, caught on exceptionally quick. They all started talking at once, nodding in their agreement with Lee, and pretending to look worried as well.

Umbridge sported an ugly look, standing out surprisingly amongst her normally hideous face. However, she did try to smile sweetly, which just made her look odd in general. "It was just a question to make sure Mr. Weasley was fully functioning," she answered Lee in a high, girlish voice. "I did hear from a certain student that he'd been tried for being mentally unhinged and possibly violent after all."

This stunned the class this time around, everyone turning to stare at George. The younger twin had gone a little pale, but he remained looking nonplussed. Fred, however, was fairing worse. His jaw was locked and his face began to burn with supressed fury. Lee, too, had gone a little red, but he attempted to calm himself. "Really?" George asked, sounding surprised. "Well, I can't imagine why someone would say that. After all, there never has been anything wrong with me." George shook his head in a sad, knowing way. "Rumours nowadays."

Now Umbridge abandoned smiling, and simply glowered. "But your note!" she snapped harshly, making Fred return all four legs of his chair to the ground with a loud thump. He wanted to growl at her for daring to use that tone towards his brother. "It _clearly_ stated that you were unstable, impaired, and handicapped!"

George shared a taken aback look with Lee, not bothering to glance at Fred because he knew he wasn't ready yet to pretend. "I don't know what you've been reading, but that is definitely _not_ what the note said," Lee laughed, making Umbridge go red.

"Let me see it!" she hissed, walking swiftly forward.

"Can't," George shrugged, smiling innocently up at her. "I ripped it up once we showed it to you," he lied swiftly. "I didn't think you'd start making up stories about me, though."

"_I have not made up stories!"_ she shrieked, outraged. "And if I'm wrong, then why is your brother so angry?"

George didn't miss a beat on that one either. "Because you're making stories up about me," he replied simply. "You really shouldn't listen to rumours, Professor Umbridge. But if you start making stuff up about Fred or Lee, I'm going to get a bit miffed myself."

Umbridge was absolutely steaming, but there was nothing more she could do. She had been unable to get a rise out of one of them, so she had no reason to punish George, most likely, to punish the other two. Especially Fred. "Open up your textbooks," she snapped, striding up to the front furiously, knowing she had been defeated.

George and Lee had never smiled so widely, but as George snuck a glance at Fred, he could tell he was still pissed, though a look of satisfaction did make itself known. "You okay, Freddie?" George whispered once Umbridge angrily busied herself.

"Angry, but if it wasn't for your little act with Lee, I'd be locked up right now," he smirked. But then he sombered up. "Are _you_ okay?" he asked worriedly.

George nodded. "I'm fine," he said reassuringly.

"Because you know there is _nothing_ wrong with you, right?" Fred prodded anxiously, wanting to be absolutely sure that George had not gotten hurt in anyway.

George smiled. "That depends on who you ask." His tone was light, teasing.

Fred looked relieved, and winked mischievously. "Too right you are."

"Silence!" Umbridge ordered harshly, her beady little eyes fixated on the twins. "I want to be able to hear a pin drop," she hissed. "Start reading!"

Lee, Fred, and George all shared exasperated glances, before they pretended to read the chapters their tyrant dictated.

* * *

><p>"Hagrid!" Fred and George cried merrily as they knocked on his little cabin door. A loud, vicious bark sounded from within, though the two knew better. Fang was an old sap, and a coward. All bark, and no bite. "Open up!"<p>

"_Back, _Fang, yeh mangy mutt," they heard Hagrid grumble as he attempted to open the door. His eyes lit up when he saw Fred and George grinning up at him. "Took yeh two long enough ter see me again!"

"Sorry, we had a few...complications," George said apologetically, giving a side-glance to his twin.

Hagrid's black eyes crinkled in sympathy. "How's yer head doing, George?" But then he paused and looked at Fred. "Or are you George?"

Both laughed; hardly anyone could tell them apart. "I'm George," the real George chuckled, sitting down at the table. Fred sat beside him, and at once Fang padded over to Fred, rested his head on his lap, and drooled all over him. Fred had to work not to look a bit disgusted, but it made George snicker all the same. "Can't complain," he replied.

Fred shot him an incredulous look, one that was not missed by Hagrid. But first, he said, "Are yeh hungry?" and set a plate of his cement cakes in front of them.

"We're fine," Fred answered, though, truthfully, he was a little hungry. But he rather liked his teeth intact, though anyone who knew Hagrid would rather die than tell him that.

Hagrid sat down as well, giving both of them a piercing gaze. "Now, I won' make yeh tell me anythin' you don't want to," he reasoned, "but don't think yeh have ter lie for me health."

George looked hesitant, but Fred dived in despite that. "George is getting worse," he said in a low voice. "His Healer says that he could slip into a coma, which isn't necessarily fatal, but might erase his memories entirely so there's no chance of getting them back, or create further brain damage on top of that." Fred didn't bother to conceal his worry, and by the way he spoke, he sounded like he'd wanted to talk this over with someone for a long time. "And he's already begun to slip."

"Wait a second," George interupted almost angrily, seeing the horror beginning to appear on Hagrid's face. "He's making it sound a lot worse than it is. I _barely_ moved from my normal brain-pattern or whatever it is they measure. And he doesn't think I'll move any more than that."

"He didn't say that," Fred countered. "He said most people don't, he didn't say _you_ wouldn't."

"Oh, it's the same thing!" George said exasperately.

"No, it's not -"

"The point is," George said loudly, cutting Fred off. "Is that it's not anything to get worked up about."

"Not anything..." Fred gaped. "Are you mad? Possibly slipping into a coma isn't anything to get worked up about?"

"No, it's not," George began to say hotly, until Hagrid interupted him.

"Merlin's beard, yeh two haven't argued like this since I met yeh," Hagrid said, looking bemused. "And I don' think now is the right time ter start," he said in a serious yet comforting voice. "'Specially when you, George, are not alrigh' no matter what yeh tell yerself." George looked down at his hands, and Fred looked at him worriedly. "Yer going through a tough time, righ' now, and I know yer tryin' to make everyone else feel better by downplayin' yer condition, but yer not doin' anyone any favours by not tellin' the truth."

George fiddled with his robe, not looking at anyone in particular. He felt a bit guilty for lashing out, and he felt restless being under Hagrid's watchful gaze.

"And yeh brother is worried 'bout you, yeh know," Hagrid continued after a pause. George squirmed, feeling even more guilty, sensing Fred's gaze on him. "And by arguin' yer not helpin' yerselves. Yeh need to stay by one another 'cause the two of yeh are all yeh've got. 'Cept...the rest of yer family..." Hagrid said thoughtfully. "And Lee...and Harry and Hermi -"

"We got it," Fred and George said in unison, slightly amused. Fred was still looking at George expectantly, however, but George avoided looking at anyone.

"Don't you feel guilty," Fred warned, seeing the all too familiar look on his twin's face.

"Guilty?" Hagrid repeated, surprised. "Why would he feel guilty?"

"He has a big problem with that," Fred told him. "He feels guilty even when it's not his fault."

"Sound familiar, Fred?" George rolled his eyes. "Mr. I'm Responsible For Everything That Happens to George."

"So yeh both have guilt problems," Hagrid concluded.

"Yeah," Fred answered for them, as George was staring determinedly out of the window.

"Yeh shouldn't feel guilty!" Hagrid protested. "Both of yeh! Unless yeh did it yerselves, you have nothin' ter feel guilty about!"

"We've been working on it," Fred half-smiled.

"Not hard enough," Hagrid snorted. "But enough about that. How are you _really_ feelin', George?"

George paused. How was he really feeling? Guilty, worried (for Fred), upset, guilty, angry (at Umbridge), guilty, confused, frustrated, and guilty were just a few of them. But if he told them that, he'd get a lecture. "Fine," George replied.

Fred sighed, giving Hagrid a desperate look. Hagrid shook his head. Obviously George wasn't going to offer anything up just yet. "How have _you_ been, Fred?" he asked, trying a different tactic.

"Worried," Fred replied instantly. "Angry, though at...a certain teacher, frustrated, and just _confused."_ George looked surprised; that'd been basically everything he was feeling. "I don't know what to do anymore," Fred said despondently. "I don't know how to help him."

George turned to look at him. "You've done enough, Fred, you don't need to do anything else."

"There had to be something," Fred said almost frantically.

"All yeh two have ter do," Hagrid said patiently, "is stick together. There's nothin' else yeh can do, 'cept follow the Healer's instructions."

Fred sighed again, unhappy that there was nothing else. But George seemed satisfied, and nodded. "So, anyways, how have you been, Hagrid?"

"Oh, fine," Hagrid said, waving his hand dismissively. "Been busy with me classes and out seeing -" he stopped short, looking like he got caught stealing or something. "Er, nevermind." George had a strange feeling he had just been about to mention Grawp. He wondered if he should tell him that they knew, but he was afraid that it might upset Hagrid.

Fred, however, remained clueless. "What else have you been busy - Ow!" He rubbed his shin where George had kicked it, glowering at him. George gave him a look, warning him not to finish that question.

Hagrid looked too uncomfortable to notice. "Er, private buisness," he mumbled, fiddling with his clothes.

"Wait...is that a bruise underneath your sleeve?" Fred asked, alarmed. George forgot about shutting him up, and stared wide-eyed at Hagrid.

Hagrid looked hightly uncomfortable now, hastily shoving his sleeve past his wrist where it had rode up a bit. "S'nothing to worry about," he said awkwardly. "Just havin' some trouble with a...creature is all."

Neither twin looked convinced, but they decided to let it go. "Have anything interesting to show us?" Fred asked.

Hagrid broke into a wide grin. "Follow me! You two are goin' to _love _this."

* * *

><p>"Anything?" George asked Lee as he skimmed through a paper while he lounged in a a chair by the fire in the Common room. Lee had gathered several <em>Daily Prophets<em> from the last few weeks or so and the two feverishly began searching through them. Fred had been too lazy and simply contented himself with watching them work.

"No," Lee groaned, tossing one in the fire and going for another.

"Me neither," George sighed. He looked at Fred watching them happily, and shook his head exasperately at him. "You do realise that _Lee_ is helping me find a shop for our products, and _you're_ watching."

"Your point?" Fred beamed, yawning.

"Maybe I should open the shop with Lee instead," he grumbled, frustrated after searching through a bunch already. He crumpled one up and threw it at Fred's head.

"Alright, don't get your knickers in a bunch," Fred rolled his eyes. However, George shot him a glare and he saw just how annoyed he was at the moment. "Okay, I'll start looking, will that make your feel better?"

"No," George retorted, grouching to himself irritatingly.

A wave of panic began to rise within Fred at George being agitated with him. "George?"

George looked up at his tone, and softened instantly at the look on his face. He forgot how scared Fred got when he was angry with him. He gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry," George said.

Relief showed plainly on his face, grinning back. "Does this mean I still have to look?"

Both George and Lee threw _Daily Prophets_ at him. They mock glared at the ginger and said simultaneously, "Yes."

Fred smirked and opened the paper that had landed on his head, eyes landing right away on an address. "Hey, what about 93 Diagon Alley?"

"What about it?" George asked.

"Well, it's in the centre of town, the person who selling doesn't look like You-Know-Who's child -"

"What about the actual place?" George asked, chuckling.

"Three floors," Fred read off, "pretty big, too. Has a kitchen up there too. There's only one bedroom, but, then again, when have we ever had our own bedroom?"

George grinned at that. "Too right you are, brother o' mine. Is it our normal bedroom size, or like, half of half of our bedroom size?" Most places he looked at made him wonder how _one_ person could sleep in a bedroom the size of a broom closet.

"Normal," Fred answered jovially. "And there's a basement, so we could keep all of our storage down there and experiment. The main floor's definitely large enough to sell our stuff, but we'd have to buy shelves and a counter. And there's two loos, so you can't hog it," he smirked.

"Oi!" George protested, throwing another newspaper at him. "I do _not,_ you tosser."

"So? Think we have a winner?" Fred asked, looking immensely pleased with himself.

"I want to say yes," George said slowly. "But I also want to say no because you found it on your first try." He smirked. "I think you should suffer more."

"It's a winner," Lee responded, smiling widely.

"How're we going to check it out, though?" George asked.

Fred waved that off, beaming spectacularly. "We'll go during our next Hogsmeade weekend and Apparate outside the protective boundaries."

"Brilliant," George grinned. They were finally putting their plans into action.

* * *

><p>Reviews are lovely :)<p> 


	32. 21 Guns

**Author's Note:** Huge thanks to **GeorgieForever, EricaX**,** **Dimcairien**, **Centaur Watch, Aris1013**, **melkyre**** for you reviews! They always make me smile :) I hope you all like this chapter!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothinggg.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

**21 Guns**

_'When you're at the end of the road,  
>And you lost all sense of control.<br>And your thoughts have taken their toll,  
>When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul.<br>Your faith walks on broken glass, and the hangover doesn't pass,  
>Nothing's ever built to last, you're in ruins.'<br>_**~ '21 Guns,' Green Day**

When the Hogsmeade trip came around near the end of March, they found themselves walking purposefully past the shops, even (sigh) Zonkos. Fred was the only one who brought a bag, but when they asked him what it was for, he waved his hand and told them not to worry about it. However, it was when they reached the end of Hogwarts' protective charms that a sudden thought hit Fred hard.

"Wait, wait, wait," Fred suddenly said, stopping short with his arms out to halt the other two. He turned his head worriedly at George. "You can't Apparate with your head, Georgie! You're not supposed to jostle it, you could fall into a coma!"

Lee turned to look at George concernedly as well. "Mate, maybe you should go back."

"No way!" George protested, crossing his arms. "I'm not letting you guys check out our store without me! Besides, I've never been to Diagon Alley! Er, I mean, I don't remember going."

Fred was stuck. Either he brought George along with the knowledge that George could further damage his brain, or leave him alone with the knowledge that something awful could happen when they were apart, which was wont to happen. And he didn't think his heart could take not knowing where George was at all times.

And they _really_ had to check this place out.

Fred sighed unhappily. "We'll have to take George."

George frowned. He didn't like how he was talking about him, like George was some annoying kid he had been forced to babysit. "Try not to look too happy about it," he grumbled.

"Either way would make me unhappy," Fred replied, a look of dissatisfication crossing his features. But then he saw the look on George's face. "George, you know why I don't want you to go," he said quickly. "I just don't want you to mess your brain up further," he said.

George sighed. "I know. If you really don't want me to go, then I'll stay."

"But what if something happens while we're gone?" Fred asked anxiously. He'd never forgive himself.

George threw his hands up in the air. "Well, what do we do then? It seems that either way I'm a -"

Lee slapped his hand over his mouth, glowering at him. "Don't finish that sentence, mate."

"I might have to kill you if you do," Fred fumed angrily.

George did the sensible think and held his hands up in surrender as he pulled away from Lee. "Sorry," he said meekly.

Fred sighed; he could never stay mad at him for more than a few seconds. "S'okay. As long as you _never,"_ he cuffed George on the back of the head lightly, "even try to mention that again." Mock pouting, George rubbed his head.

Lee rolled his eyes. "Let's just get going."

The older twin offered his arm up for George so they could Apparate to Diagon Alley. They shared a wink with Lee, who was getting ready to leave as well. Fred turned on the spot and George held on tight, automatically getting the wind knocked out of him. But something else happened too. The dull pounding in his head flared agonisingly, nearly making him pass out within the few seconds it took to reach their destination; they were aiming for a discreet place within Diagon Alley that they found a few years ago, (or so George was told) so if George had a bad reaction to Apparating, they wouldn't cause a commotion.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, his muscles collapsed and it took Fred's quick Beater reflexes to catch him before he hit the pavement hard, though he let out a strangled, "George!"

George knew someone was holding him, knew that someone was speaking to him, but for the life of him he couldn't tell what they were saying. Or who the person was. His head was beating furiously and spinning so quickly, it took all he could not to throw up right then and there.

"George, George say something," Fred pleaded, distantly hearing a 'pop' close by. George's eyes were still closed, and he didn't look very conscious. "Come on, Georgie, wake up, please."

"Is he alright?" Lee asked a little panicky, crouching down beside Fred and brushing back George's hair.

"I don't know," Fred said shakily. He was absolutely terrified that this meant that they had pushed George's brain too far, and he had slipped. Or worse, he had died. Those words kept replaying in his mind. _Coma. Dead. Coma. Dead. _"Georgie, _please."_ His eyes burned severely, blurring his vision slightly.

George couldn't muster enough energy through the pain and nausea to even open his eyes. Even his ears pounded, making now two voices sound murky and incoherent. _Who are they?_ he wondered dazedly. At the back of his mind he remembered he had been with Fred and Lee, but he caught himself wondering if it really was Fred and Lee with him, or Death Eaters, Malfoy, or just anyone who would be absolutely no help to him whatsoever. He was so confused, and he just wanted to sink into the darkness.

"C'mon, George," Lee murmured, pushing George's hair back continuously as if the comfort might wake him. Fred cradled George to his chest, choking out a dry sob. George's head lalled back, none of his muscles able to work just yet. "George, don't do this," Lee demanded almost angrily, though it was more out of panic than anything else.

George felt like sleeping, but he suddenly recognised the voices. His eyes fluttered, causing both Fred and Lee to gasp. "George?" Fred asked quietly, eyes wide.

The younger ginger managed to pry open his eyes, looking dazedly into Fred's (who was closer) eyes. "Fred?"

"Oh thank God," Fred whimpered, as he nearly squeezed the living daylights out of his twin. "You're awake...you're awake..." he murmured continuously to himself as he hugged George and rocked their bodies back and forth.

Lee merely fell back with relief, his own eyes burning. "You really have a talent in making people have heart attacks," he said weakly. But then he went on his knees and somehow managed to hug George briefly around Fred's body. Not that he could've hugged him that long anyway; Fred would've bitten his arms off.

George, while awake, could do nothing more than slump in Fred's tight, protective hold of him. He felt a stab of pain that Fred was shaking because of him, holding back tears, and forced his aching muscles to wrap feebly around Fred's waist to hug him back. "M'sorry," he managed to get out in a hoarse voice.

Fred didn't answer, but merely pressed his lips to George's head. The tidal wave of fear that had consumed him was still present, and leaving very slowly. "Don't you ever do that again," he said in a failed attempt to be firm, his voice shaking conspicuously with anguish. "I thought...I thought..." he stammered.

"M'okay," George murmured into Fred's shirt, nuzzling up so as to reassure him. He was starting to feel better, well, as 'better' as he's ever felt. His head still pounded, but his muscles seemed to be working again and the dizziness faded somewhat. He made to get up, only to hear a small cry of protest and found himself crushed back into Fred's embrace. Surprised at first, George instantly wrapped his arms tightly around his brother, whispering words of comfort into Fred's ear.

Fred felt a bit ashamed of himself; George was the one who nearly passed out, and here _he_ was getting comfort from _George_ instead of the other way around. But he couldn't bring himself to break apart. He _needed_ to hear George consoling him that he was fine, that nothing serious happened. Lee even, after he got some reassurance from George, came over to comfort him too. "Mate, he's alright. And as awful timing as this is, we have to hurry to get to our appointment to see the shop."

The ginger knew he was right, but he really didn't want him to be. Nevertheless, he reluctantly let go, but found George still clinging to him for a bit longer. Though he let go too and staggered upright. Lee shot up in a second, grabbing his shoulders to steady him. Fred wasn't far behind, and he looked George anxiously in the eyes. "George, be honest with me," he said seriously, his voice quavering with concern. "Are you okay?"

George would sooner walk up to You-Know-Who without a wand than ever tell Fred the extent of how much pain he was in. His muscles ached something terrible and his head pounded so furiously it was a wonder how he didn't just fall to his knees and start crying. "I'm fine," he replied, giving him a crooked smile.

Fred's eyes became sadder, knowing full well George lied. And it killed his twin to see it, but he believed that this was the lesser of two evils; Fred suffered enough because of him. "George," Fred pleaded. _"Talk to me."_

"Hi," George smiled weakly.

Lee cuffed him lightly on the head. "Don't be smart."

"Would you rather I was dumb?"

Both groaned. "Clearly we're not getting anywhere with this one," Lee rolled his eyes.

But Fred was staring intently at George. "We will," he promised, making it sound almost like a threat. He was going to get George to open up to him if it killed him. "But first I suppose we have to go see the shop." He sounded resentful about the fact.

George and Lee nodded, but just as George made to take a step, Fred was by his side in seconds. He gripped his arms tightly, and with an understanding nod with Lee, they both swiftly swung George's arms around their shoulders and had one of their arms wrap around George's torso, bearing most of his weight.

George struggled a bit. "Guys, this isn't necessary," he protested.

"George? Shut it," Lee supplied simply as they began to walk.

But George still wasn't cooperating. "I can walk!"

"You're lucky one of us isn't carrying you," Fred grouched. That whole little episode made him so uneasy. He just wanted to lock George up so he couldn't possibly get hurt anymore.

"Fred -"

"I will hex you!"

"Fine," George grumbled unhappily. "But if people start looking at me strangely I'm going to start running."

Lee snorted. "You will not. We can run faster than you while you're like this, and we will put a Full Body-Bind hex on you and carry you."

"But...but..." George spluttered, trying to come up with a loophole. They had made it out into the open, appearing somewhere around Flourish & Blotts, and as predicted by George, people stared. Whether you're a wizard or not, seeing two people hold up another is never normal. And George was never comfortable being around people he didn't know. At least, this George wasn't. "Guys," he pleaded, getting nervous.

Fred heard the anxiousness in his voice, and he realised with a pang why he was upset. But he wasn't about to just let go. "Sorry, Georgie."

"But what kind of impression are we going to give?" George argued. "If they see a guy who can't even walk on his own two feet, it's not going to swing the decision in our favour. There'll be other people who want to buy it, we have to make sure we stand out in a good way."

They paused. "Damn, George, when did you get smart?" Lee asked, chuckling.

"Last Tuesday," George said dryly.

"I don't care about impressions!" Fred growled. "You nearly passed out, I'm not about to just let you stumble your way into the shop. How will _that_ look?"

Lee hesitated. "Well now I don't know who's smart."

"I am," George insisted. "I can walk!"

"I'm not letting you."

"Fred, we should at least see," Lee said patiently.

"No, dammit!" Fred nearly roared. But Lee had simply let go of George, giving him room to wrench himself away.

"Just let him _try."_

Fred was fuming, but held back his retort. He stood unnaturally close, ready to catch him at any moment. George merely rolled his eyes and took a few steps as a test. He was a bit dizzy, but nothing he couldn't handle. He smirked at Fred and walked all around. George was a bit unstable, but he certainly could make his way around.

Lee seemed satisfied, but Fred fretted. "You're wobbling! Lee, we can't -"

"He's fine, Fred," Lee said consolingly. "You can keep a close eye on him, but George is right; we need to make a good first impression."

Fred sighed. It was clear he wasn't going to win. "One sign you're about to fall, and I'm throwing you over my shoulder," he warned George savagely.

George saluted him. "Sir, yes sir!"

"Then let's go," he sighed once more, walking very close to George and watching him carefully the entire time. Lee, despite what he was saying, did the same thing. He worried about George as much as Fred did, but he knew how to keep himself in check. Plus, George wasn't his twin. If he was, he probably would be freaking out as much as Fred was. But someone needed to try and reign Fred back a bit if he wouldn't listen to George about things that concerned the younger twin.

Although touched by their concern, he was a bit exasperated with Fred more than Lee, if anything. He understood as well why he was so worried, but Fred just didn't seem to listen to him. _But you don't tell him the truth about how you really are,_ his conscience piped up. _So he probably assumes the worst._ George inwardly sighed. Unfortunately, the 'worst' was usually what was going on, and he'd be damned if he confirmed Fred's fears.

He developed a rhythm of walking, even if it was a bit awry, set by the pounding of his head. _Thump, thump, thump, thump. Step, step, step, step._ George concentrated on focusing on the closest things in front of him so he wouldn't run into anything, but other than that he stared at his feet. He was going to do whatever was in his power to stop himself from falling.

"George, are you okay?" Fred asked under his breath, voice laced with apprehension.

George nodded and responded, "I'm fine," though his head never came up.

Fred sighed. It seemed George and Harry were starting to become more alike than he thought; neither would ever admit to what was wrong. Ever. Well, if George wasn't going to tell him, then he was going to be so overbearing that George would eventually tell him out of annoyance.

"We're here," Lee announced, stopping. The twins did too, and all three gazed up at it. There was nothing really special about it, but automatically their gears started turning. They could spruce up the outside with a good old fashioned Weasley redecorating, involving lots of wild colours and fireworks.

"Looks good so far," Fred grinned, but it was a bit off. He kept glancing at George to make sure he was still standing.

But before he could say anything, a plump man came bustling through the door. "Welcome!" he cried in a booming voice. "I'm guessing you are the Weasleys?"

At first glance, all three decided that this man was a bit...dirty. His dark brown hair was combed over and greasy (not as much as Snape's, though that's hard to compete with), and his face was oily and round. He had a matching brown moustache, though that looked like the most cared for part of his body. His clothes looked expensive, however, which made them wonder why the rest of him looked so unkempt.

"Well, two of us are," George replied with a smile.

"Which two?" the man guffawed, clapping George roughly on the shoulder and almost making him topple over.

Fred tensed angrily, but Lee grabbed his arm and shot him a warning look.

The other man, oblivious to Fred's irritation, grinned toothily, "The name's Berwick. C'mon in!"

Whether that was his surname or not, the three couldn't tell. Bemused, George glanced at Fred and Lee before following right behind Berwick. "Well, here's the ground floor," Berwick explained happily. "Take a look around, see if you like it. But I guarantee this place ain't coming down." George wondered why that was necessary to say.

The place was surprisingly clean and well taken care of. There wasn't even a scuff mark on the wooden floors. The walls were evenly painted white and the staircase was near the back. And it wasn't small. Like Fred had said when he found the place in the paper, the ground floor was a decent size, certainly big enough for their items and customers. There was a washroom off to the side as well.

They all convened and beamed at one another, excited. "This place looks perfect so far," Fred said enthusiastically.

"It does," George nodded vigorously, smiling widely. But then he frowned slightly. "How much you reckon it is? Did it say in the _Daily Prophet?"_

Fred smacked himself on the forehead. "Dammit! I forgot to check!"

"Let's not be hasty," Lee said quickly. "It might not matter if the rest of the place sucks. Let's just check it out first."

The twins nodded, and looked over to find Berwick leaning against the staircase and staring at them. The guy, they concluded, was a bit creepy. "Wanna go see the bedroom or the basement?"

George and Fred shared a glance before saying in unison, "Bedroom."

Berwick looked delighted by the simultaneous response. "How long have you two been practising that?" he asked, awestruck.

The two gingers looked confused. "We don't practise anything," Fred said slowly as they made their way up the stairs.

Berwick laughed richly. "That's brilliant!"

Despite the oddness, they couldn't help but chuckle at his obvious rapture of the two.

"There's only one bedroom," Berwick said, sounding almost apologetic. "But I suppose that since you're twins, you're used to it!" he chortled again.

Fred and George smirked and looked around. The bedroom had windows along the sides and the sun streamed in. The floor was again hardwood and the walls white, but all they were looking for was whether it was big enough and clean enough to live in. There was a washroom upstairs too, which was good as they really didn't think they would fancy having to trump down the stairs in the middle of the night to go to the loo.

The place definitely looked promising. "Ready for the basement?" Berwick asked merrily.

All three nodded and followed Berwick to the basement. Lee nudged Fred. "The basement looks big enough to test your products," he said cheerfully. "So you don't have to accidentally set your beds on fire. Again."

Fred cuffed Lee on the head, but grinned. It had great lighting despite the fact that there were no windows. And it looked like Berwick had tried to make the basement appear a lot more welcoming. There were again hardwood floors, but the walls were painted a bright yellow with white trimmings. There was a storage closet as well as another loo there also. They could probably build a make-shift kitchen somewhere near the back. It was that big. They wondered if it was magically enhanced.

"Well, I'm sold," George grinned.

"Hold on," Lee said, looking at Berwick. "Is there anything we should know about this place? Any appliance issues, plumbing, or, I don't know, a horrific past?"

Berwick barked out a laugh. "No, none of that."

They all looked pleased. "How much?" Fred asked warily.

"You know what? I like you two, you've got personality, unlike the other deadbeats I've seen today. So if you have enough, it's all yours. I'm selling it for eight hundred Galleons."

George's eyes went wide, and turned to look at Fred. Clearly they couldn't afford it, right? But he found both Fred and Lee smirking. "We'll buy it," Fred said.

George gaped. "Fred, we don't even have a _hand full_ of Galleons!" he hissed.

Fred's smirk got wider. "Says you." He dropped the bag to the floor and opened it. "Can we pay you right now?"

Berwick looked a little stunned and disbelieving. "You brought eight hundred Galleons with you?"

"More," Fred grinned.

Berwick threw his head back and laughed. "Young man, you came prepared!"

"How did you...?" George asked, still in shock. "Didn't that weigh a lot?"

"I'll tell you later."

George looked at him warily. "Did you do something that might have us thrown in Azkaban to get these?"

Fred chuckled as he and Lee began counting out two hundred Galleons to take away from the thousand he had in there. "No. It was a gift, actually."

"Who is the ruddy hell likes us that much to give us over eight hundred Galleon?"

Fred gave him an impish grin. "Tell you later."

George groaned, but help count out two hundred Galleons as well. In the end, the three of them had to try and stuff their pockets with the remaining money as they handed over the bag with eight hundred Galleons.

"Brilliant," Berwick said happily as he grabbed the bag. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a very crumpled piece of paper that Fred assumed was the deed. "And here you are. Pleasure doing business with you!" He said his goodbyes and left the store. His store. _Their_ store.

"We just bought our shop," Geore said, dazedly as he watched Berwick saunter off.

"We did," Fred replied, equally as amazed.

Lee walked up to them and clapped them both on shoulder. "I'm keeping the Galleons in my pocket."

* * *

><p>It took a few hours to get everything sorted out, despite the quick buy. They had to get everything legalised so the shop wasn't under Berwick, but Fred and George Weasley. There was also the matter of whether they were supposed to get the deed right from Berwick, which seemed odd to them, but they really didn't know how these things worked.<p>

But eventually, the three exhausted wizards were finally ready to depart. Until the memory of how Apparating went the first time slapped Fred and Lee upside the head.

The two stopped cold in their tracks simultaneously as if it were planned. George ended up walking a few feet in front of them before he realised they stopped. "Erm...did your legs freeze up or something?" George smirked.

"You can't Apparate back," Lee said. "We have to figure out ano -"

"What are you talking about?" George asked. "I can Apparate, it'll just take me a little bit to recover."

"A little bit to..." Fred gaped, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. "You can't be serious right now. Lee, tell me he's not being serious."

"I think he is," Lee replied, equally as thrown. "George, do you _not_ remember what happened?"

"I do," George responded patiently, "and I definitely agree it's not ideal, but we don't have much of a choice. I doubt we can get to Hogwarts _without_ Apparating." Fred looked like he was about to retort angrily, but George held up a hand. "You know I'm right, no matter how much you protest. And even if you shout yourself hoarse, we're still going to end up Apparating by the end of it."

Fred still looked like he was going to scold George severely, but Lee suddenly agreed. "I suppose you're right," he sighed.

"But...but..." Fred stammered, shaking his head, eyes wide. "Lee, we can't...George...you...don't..."

"I'm not happy about it either, Freddie, but we've got no choice. Unless, you know, you two leave me here." Fred snorted at that, but still looked distraught. "It's alright," George said kindly. "Let's go."

"Hold up," Lee said quickly, hooking his left arm through George's right. "I'm not going on my own this time."

Both gingers nodded in understanding. "Get ready," Fred murmured to George, and not a moment later, they Disapparated with a 'pop.'

George's headache flared even more agonisingly than last time, rendering him utterly helpless, and causing him to lose consciousness completely. They landed just outside Hogsmeade, and as soon as they hit the ground, George fell forward.

Fred and Lee caught him with a yelp, noticing his alarmingly limp body. "George?" Fred said quietly, kneeling so as to better support him. George looked so still and peaceful, that terror overtook him. He felt his pulse with shaky hands, but to his relief his heart was still beating strongly. "Georgie, c'mon, wake up," Fred pleaded, brushing George's hair back from his face.

Lee kneeled beside him, grasping George's hand and tried to warm it up. "Wake up," he murmured, focusing on nothing but George's face, searching for any kind of sign that he was becoming conscious.

Fred's eyes, despite his best effort, began to burn a little, causing him to blink his eyes forcefully. _Just give it time,_ he ordered himself. _He has not slipped, and he's obviously alive. Calm down..._ But it was easier said than done. It was hard to fight the panic as the minutes wore on, and still George had not woken. "Do you think we should get someone?" Fred asked urgently.

Lee looked lost. "I don't know," he said under his breath, worry on his face.

George, meanwhile, awoke slowly and a little unwillingly. He had been really quite comfortable. However this time, despite the nausea and the pain, he instantly recognised Fred's quiet murmurs. He moaned, not loudly, but audible enough for both Fred and Lee to hear.

Both their eyes widened and peered anxiously at his face. George's face started to scrunch up in pain and his eyelids began to quiver before he opened them slowly.

"Oh thank _Merlin,"_ Fred said in relief, hugging George tightly. "You stupid prat, you scared the hell out of me. Again."

"Are you okay?" Lee asked worriedly.

"That depends on your definition of 'okay,'" George groaned, clutching his head tightly. He didn't care about the ache in his muscles; they faded out due to the increase in pain in his head.

Fred and Lee shared a panicked look. "Should we go get Madam Pomfrey?" Lee asked urgently.

"No," he grunted, rolling out of Fred's hold and on to the ground. "I'm good." His arms and legs trembled, but he managed to push himself up.

Fred and Lee shot up and held him steady. "Don't overdo it, mate," Lee said, alarmed.

"I can walk," George murmured dazedly, taking a step forward and nearly smashing head first into the ground.

"George!" Fred cried, catching him.

"M'kay," George tried to reason, though the world spun sickeningly.

"George, you're not," Fred said shakily. "We have to get you to Mr. Rikialria. Dammit, I _knew_ Apparating was a bad idea!"

"My idea," George mumbled, looking like he was about to pass out again. "Not yours."

"Georgie, just stay awake," Fred pleaded as he and Lee picked him up the same way they had when George had been bleeding. George forced his eyes open, despite feeling like there were weights attached to his eyelids.

"Wait," George said suddenly in a sleepy daze. He wriggled in their hold until they stopped. "Put me down."

"What? Why?" Fred asked.

"I don't...wanna be carried..."

Lee rolled his eyes. "Really George? Self-image is the last thing you should be worrying about."

"No, listen," George slurred, a wincing as his head throbbed. "We haven' got Malfoy yet...an' if he sees me...like this we're goin' to lose...our scare tactic. The on'y reason he's left us alone...is 'cause he thinks...we're ready...to get him back."

Despite himself, George felt himself slipping into a murky stupor, so exhausted he couldn't argue his case. Fred and Lee cast worried looks at each other. George had a point, but what could they do? It was a huge effort just to keep George awake; there was no way he could walk on his own.

"What do we do?" Lee asked uncertainly.

"Well, there's really nothing we can do," Fred frowned. "George is right, word will get around that we had to carry him back, but he can't possibly walk on his -" he stopped mid-sentence. "I'm so stupid," he muttered, a thought hitting him. How could he not have thought of it earlier? "The Disillusionment Charm! I completely forgot. That way we can carry him back without anyone noticing."

Lee smacked himself on the forehead. "Of course! Okay, you let go of George and Disillusion us; you're better at it than I am."

Fred nodded and let go, causing Lee to do some shift work to keep George upright. He tried to clear his head of all thoughts; he needed to focus. He tapped George first, watching him shudder slightly at the strange feeling before he disappeared completely, and then tapped Lee before turning it on himself. He had to grope around afterwards to try and find exactly where to grab George to lift him back up, but they managed it. George was unconscious again they supposed by his lack of murmurs, which only caused the previous waves of worry to come crashing down on them.

They weaved through the throngs of witches and wizards enjoying a day at Hogsmead with almost artistic precision, moving quickly so as to get to the Hospital Wing as soon as they could. Hogwarts was a bit tricky, though, since the hallways weren't quite as wide as, say, the grounds. So they grudgingly had to slow and ocassionally pause and flatten themselves against the wall to avoid getting hit. It was absolutely frustrating, and Fred was about to rip his hair out by the time they got there. Though, they had the sense to stop outside of the doors and remove the Disillusionment Charm before they entred.

"Madam Pomfrey!" they both bellowed once they threw the doors open. The sound was enough to jolt George awake, much to their utter relief, though he still looked worn out.

Madam Pomfrey jumped and said irately when she saw who it was, "Do you three _walk_ into accidents? You are here nearly every -" but she stopped short when she saw the look on their faces. She bustled over, still muttering to herself, but looking rightfully concerned. "What happened?"

The good thing about Madam Pomfrey, is as long as she knows what kind of injury it was, she doesn't ask questions. They merely said it was an Apparition after effect, and she left it at that. Every other adult would begin to badger them about where they Apparated to since you couldn't within Hogwarts and probably give them a detention. She went into her office to fetch Mr. Rikialria, while Fred and Lee heaved George on to a bed far away from everyone else. Some patients eyed them curiously, but Fred shot them such a venemous glare that they quickly glanced away and didn't dare look in their direction again. None of them were Slytherins, luckily.

Mr. Rikialria stepped quickly out of Madam Pomfrey's office and moved swiftly towards them. His expression did nothing to comfort him. In fact, he looked angry. "You Apparated?" he asked, pulling the drapes around the bed.

"Yes," Fred replied.

The Healer rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. "May I ask why?"

"Does it matter?" Fred countered. "Fix him."

Mr. Rikialria's eyes opened quickly and both wizards saw his eyes flash. "I would appreciate," he said cooly, "if you would not demand things from me. You went specifically against my instructions. Now he is going to be much closer to slipping than he should be."

"We didn't make him go! We tried to get him to stay!" Lee insisted.

"Then you should have tried harder," Mr. Rikialria nearly yelled. "I don't think any of you understand the seriousness of this situation. He could have already slipped for all we know right now." Both Fred and Lee blanched. "No matter what George said you should not have taken him. Assuming of course that he doesn't remember how to Apparate." He gave the two wizards a piercing look and lowered his voice. "He was your responsibility, you two. George cannot be expected to know the repercussions of everything he does, though from what I gather he is normally more careful than this."

Fred and Lee felt both panic and guilt churn in their stomachs, and they couldn't look Mr. Rikialria in the eye. For once, they actually felt like they were ten years old again.

The Healer said no more and went over to George who lay motionless on the bed. He put his wand over him and did whatever magic he used to check George's brain patterns. And as soon as he was done, Fred and Lee scrambled over to George and looked anxiously at Mr. Rikialria. Fred stroked George's hair, more to comfort himself than George at the moment.

"He will wake," he said finally. "He's slipped a bit more, but not nearly as much as I feared. His brain really has proven resilient. But due to the circumstances," he said, giving them a pointed look, "I want George to remain in the Hospital Wing for a little while. We cannot have him worsening his condition, especially when he's recovering. It's a critical time."

Fred moaned quietly, burying his face in his hands. Lee, white faced, asked, "Will he slip if we just keep him in bed and make him rest? If we do nothing risky?"

Mr. Rikialria replied, "I can't promise anything. It would certainly better the odds of him not, but it's all how his brain reacts to the surroundings. But I'll try my best."

"Thank you," Fred murmured, bowing slightly into the side of the bed, his face still shielded.

Mr. Rikialria, seeing how distressed the ginger was, softened. "Don't dwell on what happened today," he said in a kinder voice. "I understand your wanting to keep George happy, but from now on you need to focus more on his wellbeing than happiness. What happened happened, and we need to focus on the future. George is far from being comatose, I want to make that very clear. He shouldn't be, but somehow George seems able to withstand a lot without any serious damage. But I hope you understand my reason for being upset; I expected much worse."

Fred and Lee nodded wordlessly, and with that Mr. Rikialria left, keeping the drapes drawn. Neither Lee nor Fred looked at one another, shame, fear, and guilt consuming their every thought. Fred would not tear his eyes away from George's face, silently begging him to wake up. He knew Apparating would be a bad idea, but he couldn't leave him alone, and he couldn't check the place out on his own either. Not to mention that he'd be having an anxiety attack by being separated. But, then again, he was having one right now.

And suddenly, before the thought even processed in his mind, he had already scampered on to the bed and managed to maneuver George in such a way that he could lie down next to him; George's head rested against Fred's ribcage, and Fred's hand went back to combing through his hair. Lee didn't hesitate to climb on to the bed as well, though he sat at the end as per usual, staring at George too.

And as if sensing eyes on him, George's face began to twitch, looking like he was becoming troubled in his sleep. Fred tucked him tightly into his side, wishing there was some way, anyway, he could take his brother's place. "We shouldn't have gone," Fred finally said quietly, looking down at the bed sheets.

Lee jerked his head up to look at Fred instead of George. "What are you talking about? If we hadn't gone, we might've never found a shop for your guys -"

"And what will that matter if George dies?" Fred snapped. "You can replace a shop, Lee."

"You didn't let me finish," Lee replied, though he looked pale. "We might've never found a shop for you guys, _but_ we should have left George with Harry or someone. That was our mistake. And you heard Mr. Rikialria; George will be fine, and this coma thing isn't fatal."

"So brain damage is okay, then?" Fred nearly yelled. "As long as he doesn't die, it's okay if he suffers the rest of his life?"

"Fred, bloody calm down," Lee retorted, getting on his knees and grabbing Fred's shoulders. "Take a deep breath, and stop attacking me for bloody sake. I didn't _do_ anything."

Fred sighed and willed himself to relax; he was doing no one any good by freaking out right now. "Sorry," he finally murmured.

"S'okay," Lee replied, leaning back on his heels. "But it's not healthy for you to be this stressed out all of the time. Maybe you should go back to the Quidditch team, that always loosened you up."

"Yeah, well, that was before this year."

"Well you need to do something, Fred, or sooner or later someone's going to make you, and that will probably entail taking you away from George."

Fred felt the anger resurface and he snarled, "He's not responible for this."

"But the situation revolves around him," Lee countered. "And the more that happens the more likely you're going to snap if you don't _relax." _He lowered his voice. "And George needs you right now. Don't let your worry ruin that. I'm worried too, Fred, but I don't stress out."

"Well he isn't exactly your twin is he?" Fred muttered. "So don't educate me on what I should do because you don't know how this feels."

"Fred, we _all _do -"

"No," Fred interupted curtly. "You don't. So just leave it at that."

The two fell into a silence that felt strained, and neither looked the other in the eye. They didn't quite know what to do, so they just sat quietly and waited for George to wake.

George, meanwhile, had felt himself stir slightly at the raised voices, but shrunk inwardly away from it. They sounded angry, and he didn't really want to be with angry people right now; though, he didn't even think about who it might be. But the more he tried to fight it, the more conscious he became, and the splitting headache came roaring back like it had been waiting all this time to hit him.

He groaned, not knowing where he was or who was around him. George just hoped if there were people around him, they'd be nice enough to leave him be until his head didn't feel like someone had taken a blunt axe to it. The ginger suddenly became aware of someone murmuring his name, of someone petting his hair. But then came another voice, farther away, and he felt the ground shift slightly near his feet. His head hurt too much to process who they were, but he remembered them with nagging familiarity.

All George knew was that he was far too comfortable (despite his head) to want to move or open his eyes. He just wanted to bury himself into the warmth surrounding him, but those voices wouldn't leave him alone. Groaning a little louder, he pried his eyelids apart and tried to peer through the momentarily blurry vision.

At first all he saw was six blurs of orange and black, and mixed background colours. Then they reduced to four, and finally their faces came into focus. And the days events rushed back in a split second.

Fred and Lee nearly had a heart attack when they heard the first groan, and nearly fell off the bed in their hurry to look down at his face. It made them anxious to see George looking at them with blank, confused eyes, but it cleared instantly when they sparked with recognition. "Wotcher," George managed to say with a wan smile

But before he could say anything else, the two nearly flattened him to the bed as they hugged him simultaneously. "Have I ever told you that you have a talent for giving people heart attacks?" Lee said, leaning back and grinning at him, though his eyes looked a bit misty.

"I think you might've mentioned it," George grinned back.

Fred moaned quietly from somewhere in George's neck, tightening his grip. George patted Fred's hair consolingly. "It's alright, Freddie," George said, kissing the crown of his head. "No need to be upset."

Fred normally would have snapped at that, but he was too tired to do so. He didn't say anything, but rolled over and immediately pulled George tightly into his side. George looked up at him worriedly, wondering why he wasn't speaking. But Fred's eyes were closed.

"Fred?" The older twin opened his eyes to latch on to George's, and they were pained. "Fred, it's okay, honest."

"George, you slipped more," Fred said quietly. "Not a lot, but..." he trailed off.

George, however, didn't seem that fazed. "Well, I kind of figured that by the time we got there," he replied with a crooked smile.

Fred was shocked at his nonchalant response. "How ca -"

"You scared the hell out of us, mate," Lee said, interupting Fred; he knew that conversation would just lead to Fred getting upset. "How are you feeling?"

George paused, but after glancing at Fred's face, he knew lying would result in an explosion. "My head hurts," he admitted, "but other than that I'm okay."

"How badly?" Fred pressed.

George grimaced. "Badly."

Fred muttered a low oath under his breath, pulling George, if possible, even closer. George's head fell into the crook of Fred's neck, and Fred made sure to keep him there.

However, at that moment a terribly familiar and unwelcome voice came droning into the Hospital Wing. All three Gryffindors stiffened. "- father says that Dumbledore should be out any day now," Malfoy declared in a superior tone. "Not long now until Umbridge takes over and cleans up the scum around here. God knows she's done pretty well on her own as a teacher, but once she's Head Mistress -"

Whatever string of self-control was left in Fred snapped. The next thing he knew he was bursting through the drapes and charging towards Malfoy, who seemed to notice him at the last minute. His eyes went wide, but before he could do anything, Fred's fist connected with his jaw and sent him sprawling to the floor. The blood was pounding within him and Fred felt nothing but fury.

He didn't even know who he was with, because the next thing he knew he was on top of Malfoy and hitting everything thing he could see with as much strength as he had. He barely heard the screams around him, and didn't even know people were screaming until two hands grabbed his shoulders and yanked him off.

Fred staggered back and recognised Lee's hands restraining him. Only one other Slytherin girl, about as pretty as a troll, was standing there looking horrified and disgusted. He didn't give a damn, though, because he had finally caught Malfoy when he was without his lackies. And he was going to take advantage of it.

"Fred, don't," Lee said, though he sounded like he was regretting saying it.

"I'll kill him!" Fred snarled murderously, elbowing and fighting Lee as ferociously as he could. "Let me go!"

"Fred -"

But Fred broke loose and dove on Malfoy again, getting two more good punches in before Lee managed to drag him off once more.

"LEE LET GO!" Fred bellowed.

But then the only voice who could get through to him sounded from behind. "Fred, don't, he's not worth it."

Fred stopped in mid-motion, everyone turning to look at a weak, thin, and pale George standing there. His eyes were latched on to Malfoy, and he was looking at him like he was nothing more than a slug. Even Fred shivered slightly from the odd power that his eyes radiated.

Malfoy, bloody and cowering on the floor, couldn't seem to look away from the utter indifference in George's eyes. It was worse than hate, because George didn't seem to care what happened to him. Malfoy was less than nothing in his eyes.

Fred shook Lee's hands off and looked at George with thinly veiled anxiety. Lee glared at Malfoy and the girl. "Get out."

Why they had been there in the first place, no one knew. But the girl managed to lift Malfoy to his feet, and he seemed to have gotten over George's look because he got out, "M-My father will hear about this!"

Fred bared his teeth and lunged, but Lee grabbed him. However, Malfoy did shriek and scuttle out of the room, the girl right behind. Both Fred and Lee turned on their heels to look at George worriedly. George's face was rigid and blank of all emotion, and he stared at the door where Malfoy had fled. Though he was weak, he held himself like he was strong enough to battle anyone who dared to challenge him.

"Georgie?" Fred asked uncertainly.

That one word broke through the façade. George slumped with weariness, looking like he might topple over at any moment. Fred ran forward and wrapped his left arm round George's torso, and put his twin's right arm over his shoulder. Lee did the same on the other side. They lead him back to his bed and gently laid him on it.

Fred crawled next to him instantly, concern etched on to every feature. "Are you okay?"

George nodded curtly, but stared straight ahead of him, his face still blank. Fred cast Lee a desperate look. "Georgie, say something," Fred pleaded.

But he didn't know what to say. And even if he knew, he didn't think he could open his mouth to speak them. He simply leaned into his pillow and closed his eyes.

But Fred panicked. He didn't know why he suddenly became so afraid, but he worried that maybe that whole commotion had been too much for him. "George!" He shook him roughly.

"Fred!" George cried, surprising himself that he could talk afterall. He mock glared at him. "What are you doing, preparing me for sleeping through an earthquake?"

Fred was so relieved he laughed, hugging him tightly. "You scared me for a minute there, you git."

Lee had a hand to his chest. "Me too," he squeaked.

George smiled. "Well, come on then," he said gesturing for both of them to make themselves comfortable. Lee quirked up an eyebrow in confusion. George rolled his eyes. "Oh, you know neither of you are leaving. And though it's a tad small, we can probably manage," he grinned.

The two grinned back. Fred settled himself beside George and, as normal, tucked him safely into his side, while Lee got subjected to the feet.

"Why do I get the feet?" Lee whined.

"Would you rather sleep on the floor?" Fred asked, smirking.

Lee cursed. "Fine, you tosser," he mock pouted. "But if by tomorrow morning both of you are on the floor, and I'm in the bed, it was an 'accident,'" he grinned evily.

"Sure," Fred shrugged. "But if we end up on the floor and you _somehow_ end up on the roof of the tower, we were 'sleepwalking.'"

George burst out laughing, and both Fred and Lee secretly agreed that it was good to hear George laughing again. Even if one of them _did_ end up on the tower.

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><p>Review please and thank you :)<p> 


	33. Mr Jones

**Author's Note: **A huge thanks to **GeorgieForever**,** EricaX**,****Dimcairien****, ******Centaur********** Watch****, ****Aris1013****,** **melkyre, Blue Luver5000****, ******93 Diagon Alley******,**** **Amanda******, ******Anonymous Reviewer******, and especially ******mybryne ******(your review made my day :D) for reviewing! :D They make me really happy haha

I hope you all like this chapter! :)

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but this story!

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

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><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**Mr. Jones**

'_Mr. Jones and me, tell each other fairy tales,  
>Stare at the beautiful women,<br>"She's looking at you. Oh, no, no, she's looking at me."  
>Smiling in the bright lights,<br>Coming through in stereo,  
>When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely.'<br>_**~ 'Mr. Jones,' The Counting Crows**

Lee was the first one to wake _very_ early one morning. Not that anyone could blame him; sleeping scrunched up at the foot of the bed wasn't the most ideal position. Lee straightened up and stretched, wincing at the soreness of the musces he had obviously slept wrong on. However, as he rubbed his eyes open, he smirked at what he saw.

Fred was slumped in a half-up position that looked like he would regret sleeping in by the time he awoke. His mouth was wide open and he snored loudly, looking quite comical. George, on the other hand, slept more peacefully. His head rested on Fred's chest, but he looked eerily still. George had always been a sound sleeper, but this was different. Instead of the occasional shuffle of covers, he didn't move, and it was the only faint rise of his chest that proved he was even alive.

Lee frowned at that, but before he could do anything, Fred's face suddenly changed into an odd expression. It almost looked disconcerting. The older twin's arm moved slowly and methodically towards George's head, and once the destination was reached, he buried his hand into the ginger hair. He subconsciously combed through it a few times as if to make sure he was there, and then his face relaxed with a slight smile, remicient to relief.

The dreadlocked boy felt a bit awed as he sat there, watching Fred every few minutes check to see if George was still in the same position as he slept. And each time Fred would look almost anxious, and then relax in relief once his hand registered George's hair. Lee wondered if Fred even knew he did that while he was asleep, and for reasons he didn't quite understand, he couldn't stop staring in an almost wonder-like trance.

And before he knew it, the sun was starting to peak through the windows and George woke almost like clockwork. He opened his eyes wearily, proving that while he was still, he didn't have the most restful sleep. "Lee?" he husked, seeing a dark form in front of him.

"Hey there George," Lee smiled.

George made to lift himself up, only to realise that Fred hand was on his head. A flash of confusion appeared on his face and he gently lifted it off him. George merely shrugged and laid Fred's arm back on the bed, completely unaware of what happened during the night. And it almost amazed Lee for a second that George would never know.

The younger twin sat up and stretched, wincing like Lee had at his sore muscles. "How long have you been awake?" he asked while stifling a yawn.

Lee shrugged. "I dunno, really. Long enough, I suppose."

Fred, however, seemed to _sense_ that George wasn't right where he had been all night, and awoke with a start, looking around panickally for half a second until he saw George beside him. George didn't look in time to see it, but Lee had.

"Morning," George said with a lopsided smile.

But Fred relaxed instantly from his moment of alarm and then cringed openly at the ache in his muscles. He then murmured sleepily, "S'not time to get up yet," and shifted himself so he could bury his head in the pillow face first. George snickered but decided to let him be.

"What time is it anyway?" he asked.

Again, Lee shrugged. "You know about as much as I do, mate." George yawned again and looked quite done in. "You should go back to sleep," Lee said kindly.

George waved his hand indifferently, but he couldn't stop his eyes from drooping. And the next thing he knew, Fred's arm shot up to yank George down with a yelp, muttering in a drowsy yet firm voice, "You better go back to sleep, you prat, or else."

George wanted to roll his eyes and say, 'Or else what?' but he found that he didn't have the energy. He dozed off almost instantly, his body resuming the unnaturally still form. Lee wondered what that could mean, and he made a note to ask Mr. Rikialria about it later. It could very well be nothing, but with George, even the 'nothing' things turned our to be _something._

Lee leaned back, unwilling to fall asleep just yet, and simply watched interestedly to see if Fred would react the same way. Though, he knew he'd regret not sleeping later.

It took Fred longer to get to sleep than George, because he kept peeking to see if George had fallen aleep yet; he didn't seem to want to be unconscious before his twin was. However, he had no idea that Lee noticed.

Lee, at a time like this, felt like an observer rather than someone as involved in this whole situation as Fred and George himself. A lot of things had changed about them. Fred had always been loyal and protective of his friends and family, but never had anyone seen him to this extent. Mostly, Lee supposed, because nothing this dangerous or terrifying had ever happened before, especially to _George._ The world couldn't have picked a more perfect person than George if they had wanted to watch Fred freak out about as much as he ever will. Fred would freak out if this happened to anyone, but George was a whole different matter. If anyone wanted to cause Fred true agony, all they had to do was do something to his twin.

George was, is, and probably always will be Fred's weak point, like Fred would probably always be George's. No one could be any closer than those two; if one got hurt, the other one felt it. It must have something to do with the mystifying bond between twins, though, not all twins were like them. Some twins hated being a twin because they yearned for their own identity, but Fred and George never had that problem. They _loved_ being twins. They loved being identical and adored how utterly the same they were. And it pained Lee to realise that what both of them were going through was never going to be fully understood by anyone else.

Fred started to murmur in his sleep, shifting around quite a bit in what looked like unease. Lee sat perfectly still and watched as Fred's hand made contact roughly with George's face, making the dreadlocked boy nearly burst out laughing as George smacked him subconsciously for the attack. Though, he sobered up once Fred tried again and found that George was right beside him, and relaxed, looking peaceful once more. Lee again found himself gazing at them with something akin to awe, and he wondered how long that had been going on. Though, he suspected a while due to the circumstances.

He sighed, flopping down on his back with his legs hanging over the side. Lee longed to sleep in his nice comfy bed in the Gryffindor dormitory; it was a wonder how anyone could sleep if only half his body fit on the bed. But he knew he wouldn't get much sleep knowing where the two Weasleys were, and where he _should_ be. So, he would have to stick it out for now. Nevertheless, he eventually found himself drifting (with difficulty) back into the world of weightless dreams.

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><p>"Hold still, will ya?"<p>

"I don't like this idea."

Fred rolled his eyes. "I'm just cutting your hair, you muppet."

"Yeah, and I'm not so sure I want you anywhere near my neck with a pair of scissors," George replied dryly.

"Prat," Fred countered. George was sitting a chair that Fred had conjured up, and Lee was lounging on his hospital bed, watching the scene with amusement. "Nothing will happen if you stop squirming."

But George wiggled in his seat nervously. It wasn't that he didn't trust Fred, but, well...it was Fred. And he wasn't the most logical or careful person ever. Fred cuffed him lightly on the head and leveled the pair of scissors to the end of George's shaggy mane. It wasn't Bill-long, but it was longer than they normally kept it. Now that he thought about it, so was his. He shrugged and pushed the thought out of his mind so he could focus.

Fred wasn't a hair stylist, but he figured he could do a decent enough job. At least, he certainly hoped so, because if he mucked it up George would be pissed. And he'd probably wake up the next morning with all of his hair shaved off. "Just calm down and sit _still."_ George huffed but obeyed, and Fred set to work.

He began clipping the ginger hair, careful to not accidentally lop off George's ear or anything. Fred went slow because he knew George wasn't exactly comfortable with this. "How short do you want it?"

"Let's just say I want there to be hair left when you finish."

Lee snickered, and Fred gave him a mock angry look. "Don't make me chop off your hair next."

"Why do you say that like it's a punishment?" George groaned, refraining himself with difficulty from jerking away and feeling his hair for any screw-ups.

"Oh ye of little faith," Fred sighed dramatically. "It really hurts that you don't trust me, George."

It was George's turn to roll his eyes. "Yeah, yeah you big baby. Just finish up before I have a heart attack. And if you purposely mess it up," he warned, "to make yourself look better, you will regret it."

"Yes George," Fred said in a condescending, exasperated way. "Whatever you say George."

Lee guffawed, grinning widely. "Honestly, you two are more fun to watch than Quidditch sometimes."

Fred continued to cut George's hair, thinking that he might as well cut it short so he wouldn't have to do this for a while.

"Oi, that side's a bit longer than the other," Lee noted.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, you're right. Thanks."

"This is taking too long," George whined.

"Merlin, George, you're worse than a five year old," Fred told him, shaking his head. "Just calm down, I'll be done in a minute."

George grumbled to himself, but continued to sit impatiently in his chair. Fred cut off great chunks in order to do this quickly, and trimmed it down afterwards. It probably wasn't the best way, but he wasn't aiming for a professional cut. "Done," Fred declared a little while later, looking deeply satisfied with himself.

"How does it look?" George asked Lee nervously.

Lee taped his chin in a mock judging way and made a show of getting off the bed and walking circles around George's chair, peering at it skeptically. But then he shrugged. "Seems fine to me, mate."

George let out a breath. "Phew."

Fred pretended to look insulted at his obvious relief. "I think I deserve an apology," he pouted.

But a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes and George replied, 'I'll apologise once I'm done with your hair. Now sit."

Fred chuckled good naturedly and did as he was told. George made quick work of Fred's hair, mostly because Fred didn't complain the entire time. And afterwards, they both sat on the bed for Lee's inspection, who would pace back and forth contemplatively before jumping forward and sniping a piece of ginger hair off one of them so they could look identical again.

At long last, Lee set down the scissors and announced, "Alright, you two are now re-Gred and Forge-ified." The twins grinned in unison, turning to look at the other to see what they looked like.

Their hair was definitely short, their ginger hair looking a bit spiked. It wasn't bad, they concluded happily. "Brilliant," Fred and George said simultaneously, beaming.

"Well, now that that's all done," Lee said, clapping his hands once. "George, get back in bed."

"What? No!" George protested as Fred got off to help George lie down. "I'm not tired!"

"George, it's only been a few days," Fred said firmly. "You need more time to rest."

"No I don't," George whined childishly, crossing his arms. "I want to leave. I hate this place."

"It's just a little while longer, Georgie," Fred said soothingly, pushing him back into the pillow. When George looked disgruntled, he implored, "Humour me."

George sighed. "I hate being cooped up. Can't we just go outside for a little while?"

Fred and Lee hesitated. They too longed to be outside. "We could probably ask," Lee said slowly.

Fred looked worried. "Only as long as you don't do anything rash," he told George.

George waved his hand. "When have I ever done anything rash?" he grinned impishly. Fred raised an eyebrow. "Okay, don't answer that. Just someone go get Madam Pomfrey." Smirking, Lee volunteered and disappeared in a flash.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Fred asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Yes," George smiled encouragingly. "I might explode if I don't breathe in fresh air instead of fumes from potions, and hear the wind roaring instead of people hacking up a lung. Honestly, it's dead depressing."

Fred couldn't possibly argue with that. "Well...you're just resting outside, okay?"

George rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mum," he teased.

"I'm only looking out for you, dear," Fred replied in a high-pitched voice, hands on hips and giving George their Mum's signature stern look.

George burst out laughing. "You do an awful impression," he crowed, eyes watering as he howled.

Fred grinned broadly at the sight of his twin laughing himself hoarse, adding the image to memory incase there was another long absence of George laughing like that. Fred had sorely missed it. And it was at that precise moment that Madam Pomfrey, looking thoroughly harrassed, and saw George roaring on the bed. Fred didn't think she could have come in at a better time. Seeing George like this _had_ to lean the odds in their favour.

Lee looked amused, and Madam Pomfrey paused a moment as George caught his breath, and said, "Alright. He can go outside for two hours, but then he comes right back, alright?"

"Yes ma'am!" George saluted her, still chuckling, his eyes bright.

She smirked and left. "What on earth did you do to him?" Lee asked Fred, a wide smile breaking his face.

Fred beamed. "I imitated our Mum."

* * *

><p>"Don't you just love the outside?" George remarked gleefully. He was sprawled on his back, arms tucked behind his head and his eyes closed. His face was tilted towards the sun and there was complete bliss on his face. He couldn't remember being so happy to be outside.<p>

Fred and Lee were doing the same, equally as pleased to be lying in the sun. "Mhmm," Fred hummed contently, opening his eyes to look at his twin. He decided to add the expression on George's face to memory as well, because ever since George woke up after the Bludger accident, Fred had never seen George so peaceful. He felt a rush of affection for him just then and reached over to ruffle George's hair.

George gave a squak of protest and smacked Fred's hand away as he chuckled, "Oi! I think you've had enough time with my hair today, thank you very much."

Lee snickered as Fred stuck out his tongue. "So does that mean I have free reign?"

George made a show of thinking it over. "Hmmm...I...nah, no, sorry Lee. There's not enough hair left."

"Okay, have you got all of your make-fun-of-Fred's-haircutting jokes out yet?" Fred asked, rasing an eyebrow.

George grinned and winked. "Nope. Don't worry, I have plenty more for the rest of the day."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Great. But remember this," he threatened playfully. "The next time you mess up, I will not let it go."

George looked nonplussed. "I don't mess up," he smirked smugly. _"You_ mess up. And I laugh at you."

"Oh really?" Fred said, propping himself up on his elbows. "What about that time when we were nine and you convinced me that chugging Muggle bubble soap would make us fly?"

George burst out laughing again. "Did that actually happen?" he grinned. At Fred's amused nod, he cackled, "I think I deserve an award for making you believe me."

Fred didn't seem to be winning. "Or what about that time when we were seven and you were _positive_ that you could repair my broken finger, and my hand broke out in welts?"

"Huh," George continued to smile broadly. "I was a brilliant child." He looked at Fred with mock appraisal. "What did you ever do?"

Lee guffawed and gave George a pat on the shoulder. Fred merely mock glared. "Okay, you smart arse, you just keep smirking. But I guarantee, tomorrow you won't be so complacent," he threatened.

But George was on a roll. "Wow, complacent. Have you actually been reading, Freddie?"

Fred launched himself at his twin and sat on George's stomach, assaulting his ribs mercilessly. George let out peels of laughter, begging Fred to stop as he tried to push him off.

"Oh, so _now_ you respect me," Fred smiled evily. "Say I'm the greatest person ever."

"Never!"

"You asked for it," Fred shrugged. "Lee, get his feet."

Lee happily complied, yanking off George's shoes and attacking his feet. George was shrieking now, his garbled laughter interupted with pleas.

"Are you ready to admit that I am the greatest person on earth?" Fred asked gleefully.

"Okay!" George gasped, writhing beneath him. "You're the best person ever!"

"I don't know if I believe you..."

"FRED!"

"Okay, okay," Fred snickered, rolling off him as Lee stopped tickling his feet and fell on the ground, roaring with laughter.

George moaned, rolling on to his stomach, his face buried in the grass. "My stomach hurts."

Fred made to pat his hair, but George rolled away, nearly running Lee over. "You're not allowed to come closer," he told Fred in a playful groan. "I may need to stay the night right here."

"Ah, c'mon George," Lee chortled, but George rolled away from him too.

"You two suck," George told them, face still implanted in the grass. He lifted his head to glare at Fred teasingly. "You're sleeping on the floor tonight."

Fred rolled his eyes. "George -"

"Floor," George retorted, adamant.

Lee looked at his watch. "Hey, we should head back. It's been almost two hours."

George slowly staggered to his feet, nearly toppling over as the world spun. He felt lightheaded, and Fred instantly jumped forward to catch him. "Georgie, are you okay?"

"Yeah," George mumbled, looking dazed. "Just gimme a second."

Fred knitted his eyebrows together. "Maybe we shouldn't have come out here," he fretted. "You're supposed to be resting."

"Which I did," George pointed out, regaining some of his balance. Though he still had to lean on Fred for support. "I just...got up too fast," George improvised. That didn't help the worry lines etched on Fred's face, who could see right through that lie. "Fred, don't worry about it, it's fine."

Fred opened his mouth to protest, but Lee elbowed him in the stomach. The older twin headed Lee's jab, but he wasn't happy about it. He put George's left arm over his shoulder and put his right arm around George's torso to support his weight. "Let's go," Fred said. "And you are sleeping the rest of the day, you old tosspot."

"I'm younger than you," George grouched, though he smirked all the same.

Lee walked in front of them, glaring at anyone who looked at them weird and twiddled his wand in a threatening way. Not that Fred couldn't have done well enough on his own. While they had gotten outside unseen, getting back in proved to be the problem. George was highly uncomfortable, and Fred knew that. And the glower he sent people who dared to look their way could've killed them if he were part Basilisk. He even went so far as to snarl murderously at a group of curious second years, and nearly scared them out of their knickers.

George, for the most part, kept his gaze on the floor so he wouldn't get even more flustered by the attention, but that made Fred even more on edge. And Merlin knows what would happen if they ran into Umbridge or Malfoy.

But for the most part, they got to the Hospital Wing fairly easily, and all were slightly relieved that they were safe in their little section. Fred immediately pushed George into the pillow and clambered next to him, while Lee again got left at the feet.

"You know what we should do?" George said suddenly, a thought striking him. "We haven't been to the DA meetings -"

"For obvious reasons," Lee said dryly.

George went on as if the interuption never occured. "- lately, and I think it'd be good if we got back to it."

"George, don't rush things," Fred said warily. "You can't even walk on your own."

George rolled his eyes. "I'm not saying right this very second, but whenever the next meeting is. Until my memory comes back, I need to know as many spells as I possibly can before we leave Hogwarts."

"Why?" Fred asked, oblivious as to what George was implying. "We can still teach you once we're out of here."

"Well, yeah, but with all those Death Eaters swarming around out there, I'd think it'd be good that I wasn't completely useless," George informed.

Fred's eyes went wide; he completely forgot about what waited for them outside the safe confines of the castle. "But...I...you..." he stammered, suddenly a bit panicked. They couldn't come for them, not when there was so much they were still trying to rebuild. But deep down he knew it would be inevitable; their family was one of the biggest 'blood traitors' around. Not to mention the fact that Ron was one of Harry's best friends, and their family was very familiar with him. But still, right here, right now, he wouldn't believe it. "That...that won't happen," Fred said in an attempt to be firm.

"How?" George asked, confused.

"Because I'll make sure of it."

Even Lee was looking at him weirdly. "Mate, what do you mean by that?"

"I don't know!" Fred said, frustrated. "I'll push him into a closet or something."

"A closet," George replied skeptically. "And where is this magical closet that will protect us from roaming Death Eaters?"

"Well, if anything happens, I'll hide you in _something,"_ Fred said exasperately.

George's eyes narrowed. "Fred, do I look like a nancy to you?"

"No, but -"

"So what makes you think that I would just go hop in a closet if a Death Eater came to our door, and leave you to fight them off on your own?" George asked, a bit bewildered by Fred's statement.

"Because then I won't have to worry!"

"So, it's okay if _I'm_ having an anxiety attack, but not you?" George snorted. "That is _not_ going to happen." His tone signaled the end of the discussion, but Fred wasn't obeying.

"It is too."

"Is not."

"Is _too."_

"Is _not,_ and so help me, I will smack you if you say that again."

Fred looked like he was debating whether or not to just go ahead and continue or not, when Lee cut in. "Fred, the man isn't going to sit around and wait to see if you can survive an ambush on your own. Hell, no one would. And anyways, this is _George_ we're talking about here. If anyone can handle a challenge, I think it's this guy."

George looked pleased and gave Lee an appreciative look. "That's a confidence booster," he grinned. Lee shoved him playfully, grinning back.

Fred, however, didn't look happy. He bit his lip so he wouldn't say anything, but he didn't like the thought of a barely educated George taking on a couple of Death Eaters. He didn't know in what world where that would turn out alright, but it certainly wouldn't be this one. He sighed, though, in defeat; it was obvious he wasn't going to win this one. "Then we better get started, shouldn't we?"

* * *

><p>Reviews would be lovely :)<p> 


	34. Please Please Please

**Author's Note: **A huge thank you to **mybryne, GeorgieForever, EricaX****, **Aris1013**, **DarthAbby**, **DisgracedxMia**, **melkyre, Blue Luver5000, stargirlak, 93 Diagon Alley**, **Punzie the Platypus, ****and****Spiralling-Down**** for reviewing! :D They always make my day, you guys are wonderful.

And, just a side note, I couldn't quite remember if the Inquisitorial Squad came before or after Umbridge discovering the DA, but for all tense and purposes, let's just say before :P

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything but this simple story.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**Please Please Please**

'_Please please please, no more melodies,  
>They lack impact, they're petty,<br>They've been made up already.  
>Please please please, no more maladies<br>I'm so tired of crying,  
>You'd think I was a siren.'<br>_**~ 'Please Please Please,' Fiona Apple**

George managed to convince Mr. Rikialria and Madam Pomfrey after a week and two days that he was perfectly fine and didn't need to stay in the Hospital Wing. He figured he must've learned how to do that 'Weasley Charm' thing because it worked, despite the fact that both Lee and Fred and told him to not even try.

To his utter delight, though, they let him out early the next morning so he could make it to breakfast and be somewhere _other_ than their tiny little corner with one bed and three people in it. No one could complain over the fact that they could now sleep in a bed that was _made_ to hold real sized people in it. But Fred couldn't help but turn into a fusspot as they strolled down to the Great Hall, wondering if it was alright for George to be out and about already.

But before he could voice his worries, his eyes caught on a big letter 'I' on a mangy Slytherin's robes. His eyebrows knitted together. "Did you guys see that letter on that Slytherin's robes? The 'I'?"

"No?" George said. "I hav-" but then he stopped abruptly when three another Slytherins strode past them, all wearing the letter 'I'. He frowned. "Last time I checked, 'Idiot' wasn't a House," he muttered darkly. "What do you think they mean?"

"I don't know," Fred replied suspiciously. "But if it has anything to do with Slytherins, it's not a good thing."

"Maybe someone knows what's going on," Lee said, looking curious as well. "Oi, Harry," Lee said as they reached the Gryffindor table and sat down. "What is with all these Slytherins wearing 'I's on their robes?"

Harry's expression turned ugly. "They're the 'Inquisitorial Squad," he said in a mocking voice. "They're hand picked by Umbridge. They have more power than the Prefects here, and can take away and give points whenever they feel like it, even from other Prefects. So, as you can imagine, we now have negative nine hundred and thirty seven points," he grumbled angrily as he stabbed his sausage with a fork.

"We passed at least four of them and they didn't do anything," Lee pointed out.

"Well, they wouldn't if they didn't get a good look at you," Hermione suddenly said. "They were probably too self absorbed or docked so many points already that they don't stop every single person."

"Good," Fred growled. "Because I would've pushed them off the tower or into a Vanishing Closet if they tried."

"I don't know if that would be a good idea," Ron said uneasily. "I mean, Umbridge can turn pretty nasty, right? If she hears that you did something to her lackies..."

Fred's face darkened murderously, but he didn't say a word. "So we're just supposed to take Umbridge and her stupid Decrees?" George snorted angrily. "Why can't Dumbledore stop her?"

"He would if he could," Hermione replied. "But Umbridge is under the Minister's wing, and Dumbledore isn't too friendly with the Minister nowadays. And I would bet anything that Fudge is just waiting for a reason to arrest Dumbledore. He's scared of him, you know."

"Fudge?" George asked, nose crinkled up in confusion.

"He's the Minister," Lee said. "And he refuses to believe that You-Know-Who's back, and thinks that Dumbledore's trying to take his job."

"That's rubbish," George said, faintly remembering Fred explaining this a while ago. But he couldn't recall the details. "Dumbledore is the greatest wizard alive, isn't he? If he wanted the job, he would have went for it, right?"

"Try explaining that to Fudge," Harry muttered, viciously destroying the eggs on his plate. He had no appetite, but he was just agitated right now. "Apparently I tell 'nasty, attention-seeking lies.'" Hermione and Ron tensed a bit, remembering the 'detentions' their friend had been forced through.

George gave him a sympathetic look, remembering what Harry had to carve into his hand. "And apparently, rule breakers, such as myself, deserve to be punished," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Fred stiffened something awful and copied Harry as he stabbed his pancake with unneeded force, nearly breaking the plate underneath. "Don't let it get to you, mate. She's sick, and anyone with a bit of sense knows you wouldn't lie about something like that."

Harry gave him an appreciative smile. Then smirked almost sarcastically and said, "Well, I guess ninety percent of the wizarding world doesn't have any sense."

"Crazy times we live in," Lee winked.

"On another note," George said in a lighter voice. He leaned forward to ask quietly, "When's the next DA meeting?" He then looked apologetic. "I haven't been able to go for a while."

Harry waved it off. "You had a good reason, mate. Are you alright, first of all?" he asked, a bit worried.

"Yeah," George grinned, though Fred squirmed in his seat.

Harry didn't notice. "Good," he smiled. "And you asked at a pretty good time. There's one tonight, seven o'clock."

"Brilliant," George said, satisfied as he leaned back. "I need, uh, some help with some things," George said sheepishly.

"No problem," Harry gave him an encouraging smile.

George beamed brightly. "I appreciate this, Harry."

"I don't mind, honestly," Harry grinned back.

Everyone ate their breakfast happily, chatting together. No one but George and Lee noticed Fred's moodiness, and he merely mutilated his food instead of eating it. "What's wrong?" George asked him quietly when Lee asked Hermione a question.

"Nothing," Fred muttered. He felt George's piercing gaze on him, but he didn't look up. George just sighed and left him alone, but he was determined to figure out what was going on with him.

* * *

><p>George was nearly bouncing in his step as they made their way to the Room of Requirement. He was excited to finally expand on his <em>very<em> limited magical abilities. Fred, however, did not seem to recover since his drastic change in mood from that morning. And even though George was excited, he was also worried about what was going on with his twin. He barely answered when a question was directed his way, and for the life of him, George couldn't figure out _why._

Lee seemed to be getting more annoyed than worried by the time it was time to go to the DA meeting. As Fred scuffed his feet on the ground as they made their way down the corridor, Lee was just about at the end of his rope. But a swift look from George told him to bite his tongue.

"It'll be good to get back into the DA, don't you think so Fred?" George said, trying to get his twin to talk.

Fred mumbled something incoherent and shoved his hands in his pockets. George sighed, a helpless look on his face.

"It's great that Harry's taking the time to teach you," Lee piped up after a moment, trying to get George's previous excitement back in him. "You'll learn loads."

George smiled appreciatively. "Yeah. There's really no better person to learn hexes and curses from," he laughed. "I mean, defeating You-Know-Who a thousand times has to carry some weight."

Fred kicked at the ground aggressively, his features going more rigid at their conversation. George sombered up immediately, and Lee narrowed his eyes. "Well, we're here," George replied in a less-than-enthused voice. They walked three times past the wall and the door to the DA group opened. Everyone save for Harry, Ron, and Hermione were surprised to see them entre. But even more so, surprised to see Fred looking angry.

Harry gave George a questioning look, but George merely shrugged. The three of them walked a little away from the group as Harry gave them instructions to continue to practise whatever they learned last time before he walked over to George. "Hey, ready to get started?"

"Definitely," George grinned. "But...I want to be able to learn the basic defensive and, er, offensive spells first."

Harry nodded. "That's a good place to start. What do you already know?"

George scrunched his face up in concentration. "Erm..._Expelliarmus, Petrificus Totalus, Lumos, and Nox,"_ he replied, a bit embarrassed. "Though I suppose the last two don't count."

"That's not bad," Harry encouraged. "There's a few more that will be worth knowing, so that's probably what we're going to work on today." He turned to Fred and Lee and started to say, "You guys can join the other group, if you want. We're doin -"

"No thanks," Fred snapped, his hands still embedded in his pockets.

Harry looked taken aback, and both George and Lee glared at him. "Fred, honestly, go join them," George ordered in a firm voice. "There won't be a lot for you to do here."

Fred glared back. Lee grabbed Fred's arm and said, "Erm, we'll be over there." He dragged an irate Fred away from an annoyed George and a stunned Harry. "What the bloody hell is your problem?" Lee demanded, eyes flashing.

"Nothing," Fred retorted.

"Don't 'nothing' me," Lee said in a voice strangely reminiscent to Mrs. Weasley. "You've been skulking around and snapping at people all day. What's the matter with you?"

Fred didn't reply as he watched George have a go at a spell. He figured it must have been review, because George petrified Harry perfectly, and once Harry recovered, he clapped a beaming George on the back, grinning and obviously giving him words of encouragement. He kicked at the ground again.

Lee watched the exchange curiously. "Do you have a problem with Harry teaching George?"

Fred stiffened slightly before turning to glower at Lee. "No," he gritted his teeth.

But it was obvious Lee touched a nerve. "You do, don't you?" Lee pressed on suspiciously. "Why, though? Harry's teaching him how to defend himself, you should be happy!" Fred kicked at the ground harder. "I mean, now George will have a chance against a Death Eater!"

"And who says he'll be facing one?" Fred snapped viciously.

"Oh, gee, let's think, _You-Know-Who?"_ Lee exclaimed. "You aren't in control of the _world,_ Fred. You know it's going to happen, but _w__hy_ does it bother you that Harry's teaching him?"

"Because it's not how we work!" Fred suddenly exploded, his face red. "This is not how it's _supposed _to be!"

Lee was baffled. "And how exactly is it supposed to be?"

"It's supposed to be the two of us figuring things out, not...not _this!_ We've never needed anyone else and that's how it's supposed to stay! I _don't_ like other people intruding in our lives!"

"So...I'm...?"

Fred rolled his eyes exasperately. "You don't count, you prat,' he grumbled. "You're the only one I don't mind."

Lee rolled his eyes now. "Wow, thanks Fred, that means a lot," he replied dryly. "But I still don't get it. I mean, you didn't care that George was in school and learning spells from the teachers."

"They're...they're different," Fred muttered.

Lee raised an eyebrow in sudden surprised amusement. "Are you _threatened_ by Harry?" He couldn't help but laugh at that, earning a punch in the arm from a slightly red Fred. "Sorry," he grinned, holding his hands up in surrender. "But that's ridiculous. What, do you think George is suddenly going to sprout a wonky little scar and declare himself a Potter just because Harry teaches him a few defensive spells?"

"I don't know," Fred grumbled, annoyed and embarrassed. "It just feels different."

Lee forced himself to bare a straight face as he said, "Look, mate, you've never needed another person's help in this kind of way because nothing has ever happened to cause you to. Things have to change _temporairily_ so you two can get back to normal, alright? You're not going to lose your twin," Lee finished in an exasperated and slightly teasing voice.

But Fred wasn't moved. "And what if we never get back to normal?" Fred said quietly. "Lee, if he slips into that coma and comes out of it wrong...Lee, what if he's blind? We can't possibly remain the same then!" His voice suddenly cracked as he continued, "What if he can't speak? What...God, Lee, what if he never remembers? I don't...if he can't..." Fred stammered, eyes bright.

Lee's amused mood fell with each word, a little fear being injected into his system. But he furiously fought it back. "Fred, mate, you can't think like that. Those are all 'what-if' scenarios, we don't know if that will ever become an issue. You can't torment yourself with everything that could _possibly_ happen. You'll never get a moment's peace, and you _know_ George is always being the fusspot he is about what's going on with you." Fred looked momentarily surprised, but Lee smacked his shoulder. "Don't give me that, you should know he does. Look, you can either wallow in misery over the future, or you can just make the best of it. And I, for one, vote for the latter."

Fred sighed heavily, casting another glance at his twin. "Yeah."

"C'mon, mate. Let's either go back or practise, what do you want to do?"

"Go back," Fred said like it were obvious. The two walked back over to where George and Harry were, nearly scaring George out of his skin as they came up behind him.

Fred didn't exactly feel much better, but he did feel a bit ashamed of himself. Looking a bit sheepish, he said, "Erm...sorry about...you know, before."

George was looking at him carefully as Harry told him it was alright; he looked like he was trying to stare the reason out of him. But, he gave up after a few moments when Fred merely looked at him in an almost pleading way, getting the impression that Fred was asking George _not_ to ask. With a roll of his eyes and a smirk on his lips, he turned back to his teacher. "Okay, which one should we start first?" he asked Harry.

"Well, I was thinking it'd be best if you learned _Protego_ first, then spells like _Immobulus, Furnunculus, Locomotor Mortis, Riddikulus_ and _Expecto Patronum."_

"Brilliant," George grinned. "So...how do you do it?"

Fred and Lee leaned against the nearest wall as Harry instructed George on the movements and incantation. Don't get him wrong, Fred was relieved that George was learning how to protect himself should he have to. It was the circumstances under which that might happen that Fred didn't like.

Once they left Hogwarts, there'd be no superior power to stop Death Eaters from trying to kill them. They could put protective spells up, of course. But there was something more comforting about knowing that Dumbledore was in the castle, and that You-Know-Who, much less a Death Eater, wouldn't dare try to break in. When they were out in Diagon Alley, there wasn't that guarantee.

But that fear conflicted with the burning desire to finally put their talents into action, do what they've always dreamed of doing. Proving their Mum _wrong._ All those aspects were pulling Fred in, nearly drowning him in yearning, and he often wished this whole school year would be over so he could give in to them.

But as soon as that thought ran through his mind, did the fear come back. It was a never-ending cycle between the two emotions, and it made him feel extremely conflicted.

Fred chewed on his lip as he watched George produce a small protective shield after a few tries, glowing with enthusiasm. Fred hated having everything weighing on his mind. He wished he could go back to when he had absolutely no concerns other than playing Quidditch, way back before George lost his memory. But it was hardly _George's_ fault that this happened, though he knew George still thought about it. Which frustrated him to no end, but then again, he still felt guilty about things that drove George up the wall too.

The meeting went by quicker than Fred thought it would. George had started to get the hang of _Protego_ right at the end, and he was grinning with satifaction. But as it was nearly the end of the year, Harry proposed that they go to the Room of Requirement every night so George would be ready for when they left. Which would most likely be before the NEWTs were even a consideration.

"So, you're talking again I suppose?" George said with a raised eyebrow as they made their way back to the dormitory.

Fred ducked his head sheepishly. "Erm...yeah."

George shook his head with a slight smirk. "You're not going to tell me why, are you?"

"Probably not."

George rolled his eyes. "Didn't think so."

* * *

><p>"Honestly, Fred, <em>how<em> many times did I tell you to get the Fluxweed?" George asked the ginger sprawled out on the bed exasperately.

Fred was lying on his side with his head propped up by his hand, his elbow supporting both. George was sitting crosslegged on the floor with the cauldron in front of him, a fire lit nicely beneath. There were a few scattered ingredients around him, but none of which were the Fluxweed he obviously needed.

"I dunno," Fred replied lazily. "A thousand?"

"And _why_ didn't you get it?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Because every time you asked me I was in a very comfortable position."

"I asked you yesterday and you were complaining about that crick in your neck."

"Well, I was obviously unable to perform the task."

George groaned, falling on his back with a thump. "You're a pain in the arse, you know that?"

"Mhmm," Fred grinned down at him. "I happen to be very familiar with that term."

George glared up at him. "Where's Lee anyway? Maybe _he_ can help me instead of being a lazy prat."

Fred waved his hand at the insult. "I prefer...'one who works at his own pace.'"

"You haven't moved in two hours!"

Fred gave a one shoulder shrug. "I'm on a slow trail."

George grumbled in frustration and stood up, putting out the fire before walking out of their dormitory.

"Oi! Where're you going?" Fred called, sitting up.

"Away!"

Fred jumped to his feet and ran after him. "Aw, c'mon Georgie, come back. I'll work, I promise."

George muttered something under his breath and he looked very annoyed as he continued towards the stairs.

Fred knitted his eyebrows together. "George? Mate, wait for a second, would ya?"

George however seemed to have an idea of where he was going because he picked a farther away staircase with purpose.

The older twin was starting to get a bit panicked. "George! Where're you going? I'm sorry, alright? C'mon, I'll go get whatever it is you needed!"

George trumped down the stairs pretty quickly, nearly hopping over steps as he descended. Fred raced after him, anxious. Once they got off the stairs and down the hallway did Fred catch up to him. He grabbed his shoulder. "George, I'm sorry okay?"

George rolled his eyes. "I'm just going to Snape's cellar, ya berk. Since _you_ wouldn't do it."

Fred was taken aback for a second, before he mock-glared at him. "Then why didn't you answer?"

"Because I figured you'd eventually catch up and do what you were supposed to do a week ago," George grinned evily.

Fred smacked George's shoulder. "That was low," he told him.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't have had to do that if you did what I asked," George countered. "I'm not running the shop by myself, so as much as you don't want you, you have to do _something."_

Fred looked at him for a few moments and then grinned apologetically. "Sorry. I was being a bit of a git, wasn't I?"

"Yes, you were," George told him seriously before laughing at his expression. "But you can redeem yourself if the next time I ask you to do something, you _listen?"_

Fred saluted him. "Sir, yes sir!"

George looked at his watch, then sighed. "Well, there's no use getting it now. We have to go to the DA meeting."

Fred grimaced. "Sorry, mate."

George waved his hand. "S'okay. Let's go."

The twins made their way towards the Room of Requirement, sneering at Slytherins who bore the 'Inquisitorial Squad' badge and losing a good three hundred points combined. They found this to be a bit of a success and they entred the DA meeting with hardly dampened spirits.

"There you lot are," Lee said once they entred. "Did your guard dog get lost?" he asked George teasingly.

Fred made a rude gesture as they headed towards the back, awaiting Harry. Though it had only been two weeks, George had learned _loads._ He had successfully mastered _Protego, Immobulus, Furnunculus _(causes the opponent to break out in horrible boils)_, _and_ Locomotor Mortis_ (locks the opponents legs together)_._ George thought Harry deserved an award for being George's practise target, though it was a good thing Hermione knew the counter curse for the _Furnunculus_ spell, because that looked like it _hurt._ Harry supposed that George got them so quickly because he technically knew how to do them, he just...couldn't remember.

Today they would most likely be doing the _Expecto Patronum_ spell like everyone else was doing, because they would need a Bogart for George to learn the other.

Harry came walking towards them and said, "Ready George?"

"Yup," George nodded. "So what's the _Expecto Patronum_ thing?"

Harry replied, "It's an advanced spell, so don't get discouraged if you don't get it as quickly as the others. You have to pick a happy memory...er, that you remember...and focus hard on that while you say the incantation. If you do a corporeal patronus, it was turn into an animal that is unique to you."

George was a bit confused. "Erm...okay..."

Harry smiled. "Here, watch." Harry focused on an empty area in the room and cried, _"Expecto Patronum!"_ A bright, silver stag burst from Harry's wand, galloping around the room. Everyone turned to stare in awe at the brilliant animal, until Harry let it fade.

George gaped. "That was cool," he said after a while, looked awestruck. Fred and Lee smirked as they leaned against the wall behind him.

"Have a go," Harry encouaged.

George didn't seem so sure, but he tried to pick a memory he thought might do. There wasn't a as large of a selection as everyone else would have, but he decided on the first time he got up in the air on his broom. He pointed his wand at the same area that Harry had, took a deep breath, and shouted, _"Expecto Patronum!"_

Nothing happened.

George frowned. "Well that was rubbish."

"Harry, I think I'm doing it!" someone suddenly yelled, bringing their attention to an excited lad who George had never seen at the DA meeting before. "Look - ah - it's gone ... but it was definitely something hairy, Harry!"

Harry grinned and the twins and Lee laughed. The door to the Room of Requirement swung open, but when Harry turned to see who it was, he didn't seem to see anyone. "Okay, George, how about you give it..." he trailed off when everyone had suddenly become quiet.

Something suddenly appeared at Harry's knee, tugging on his robes. George couldn't remember seeing this elf before, certainly not one with that many hats, but the urgency in his eyes made him share an uneasy glance with Fred. "Hi Dobby!" Harry greeted fondly, clearly showing familiarity. "What are you -" And then Harry saw the terror in Dobby's eyes, and the shaking of his thin frame. "What's wrong?"

"Harry Potter, sir ..." the elf squeaked with a high level of respect in his tone, despite the pure fear in his wavering voice. "Harry Potter, sir ... Dobby has come to warn you ... but the house-elves have been warned not to tell ..."

To George's complete astonishment, Dobby stopped abruptly and ran head-first at the nearest wall. He turned wildly to Fred and Lee, but they were by his side in seconds, both gripping on to the sleeves of his robes. They seemed less concerned with Dobby's sudden desire for self-punishment, and more on what he had to say.

Fred had met Dobby before and quite liked him, but he couldn't focus on anything but Dobby's words. _'Dobby has come to warn you...'_ Dear God, what was it? He held on to George's arm tighter, ready to bolt towards the door to safety at any moment.

Harry quickly made to grab Dobby, seeming alarmingly accustomed to this display, but missed. Dobby ran into the wall, but thank Merlin he had so many hats on, as they cushioned the blow.

"What's happened, Dobby?" Harry asked insistently, grabbing the elf's tiny arm and holding him away from anything with which he might seek to hurt himself.

"Harry Potter ...she...she..." Fred's chest clenched with horror. _She. _He hoped that his sneaking suspicion of who it was was wrong.

Dobby hit himself hard on the nose with his free fist. Harry seized that, too.

"Who's 'she', Dobby?" Harry demanded, though by his expression, Fred gathered that he had the same idea.

Dobby looked up at him, and neither Fred, George, nor Lee could see what happened, but suddenly Harry said in a horrified voice, "Umbridge?" Dobby nodded frantically.

"Is she coming?" Harry pressed in a quiet voice.

Dobby stamped his feet viciously on the tile. "Yes, Harry Potter, yes!"

Harry straightened immediately and looked at the motionless people gaping at him. "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Harry bellowed. "RUN!"

That was all Fred needed. He grabbed both George and Lee and flew out the door, somehow yanking them all through the door relatively unscathed. But the mob rushing out with them on the other side was a different cauldron of newts altogether.

George was yanked roughly from Fred's iron grasp, swept away as if in a tide in the opposite direction by the frantic crowd.

"George!" Fred shouted, eyes wide and terrified as both he and Lee struggled to get to him.

George shook his head madly. Fred and Lee would be caught if they didn't just run right then. "Go!" He cried, struggling to get on his own two feet. When neither Fred nor Lee seemed to listen to him, he yelled as loud as he could, "You said you'd listen when I asked you do do something, and I'm telling you to _go!_ I'll meet you in the Common room!"

The younger twin didn't get another glance to see if Fred obeyed or not, but he prayed that Lee would have the sense - and the strength - to force Fred away. He stumbled spectacularly, but he managed to regain somewhat of a footing before he tried to sprint with the herd.

He made decent ground, until someone, he didn't know who, elbowed him painfully in the side, causing him to jerk sideways and collide with the ground with a string of profanities. Luckily he fell away from the on coming path of feet, but he didn't have enough room to stand, which was about annoying as hell.

He was contemplating tripping someone so he could get up, until he felt someone grab his robe and scream, "George! Get up!" _Ginny,_ George realised with a start. He felt himself be yanked upward and forced to keep moving. Ginny with a firm hold on George's arm, pulled him down a corridor that no one had entred, pausing to take a couple deep breaths.

"Thanks," George panted.

"No problem," Ginny replied, also out of breath. "C'mon, we have -"

But she got cut short when two brutish Slytherins, both bearing the 'I,' appeared as if out of thin air. There was a moment when the four of them simply stared at each other. But then the ugliest Slytherin ordered harshly, "Get them."

It all happened so fast. Ginny got her hair tugged rather roughly, causing her to cry out, which ended up in George shouting angry protests and insults as the other grabbed him. George and Ginny writhed, but they didn't struggle for long. Just as George received a staggering knee to the stomach from his captor, he managed to rotate his wand so it was pointing at the Slytherin holding his sister and puffed out, _"F__urnunculus!"_

The Slytherin shrieked in pain as his body was covered with angry, throbbing boils, effectively dropping Ginny. _"Immobulus!"_ Ginny cried furiously at George's Slytherin, knocking him backward.

Ignoring the pain in his stomach, George ran alongside Ginny towards the nearest staircase, trying to reach their goal - the Gryffindor Common room. Though, in the state they were in, they'd just be happy to see a friendly face.

After what seemed like days, the two managed to stumble towards the Fat Lady, huffing out the password in painful gasps. They tumbled inside, nearly falling in their effort to get into a safe environment.

A sudden pair of arms knocked whatever air was left in his lungs out as they crushed him to the person's body. George knew instantly that it was Fred.. He quickly released one arm so he could crush Ginny as well, and then held on tightly.

"Fred, mate, you're choking them," Lee suddenly said with mild alarm, eventually pulling the two free.

As George tried to catch his breath, he glanced up to see Fred standing there with pure anxiety in his eyes, and a quickly developing bruise on his cheek bone. He looked otherwise unscathed, and Lee didn't appear to have received any damage.

He gripped his stomach where the Slytherin had kneed him and groaned out breathlessly, "What...happened...to you...guys...?"

Fred's face was pure white, save for the mark, as he answered shakily, "We just followed the crowd. Some bloke elbowed me in the face, but we got here pretty quickly. What happened to you two? Are you both alright?"

Ginny and George shared a glance, something that didn't go unnoticed by Fred. "Well..." George started uneasily, looking at Ginny to finish the rest of the story for him. Fred eyed George's stance worriedly.

Ginny seemed bolder, and replied, "Well, I was running until I found George on the ground. He looked like got knocked down or something -" she ignored Fred's vehement cry, "so I pulled him up and we ran down a corridor where we, erm, ran into some Slytherins, but we took care of them, so anyway -"

"Back up," Lee suddenly said, face pale too. "You ran into a pair of Slytherins, and all you say is you 'took care of them'? What did they do?"

The George and Ginny shared another glance. "You know how Slytherins are," George forced a laugh. "A bunch of gits with nothing to do in their spare time."

"Did they hurt you? I'll kill them -" Fred stuttered furiously.

"We're fine," George assured him, though he winced slightly as he stood upright. Fred still looked murderous.

"Where's Harry?" Ginny asked, looking around.

"Dunno," Lee replied. "Merlin, I hope they didn't catch him."

George shook his head. "No...he's Harry, he wouldn't get caught. Maybe he just went to another safe haven. Probably somewhere with -"

The Common room door burst open, and Hermione and Ron staggered in. "Where's Harry?" they demanded in unison, panting heavily.

"...Damn," George swore under his breath.

"You mean he's not with you?" Fred asked. The two shook their heads. "Well...he's probably off somewhere, being the hero and all that," Fred said confidently, though George knew he was just trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah," Ginny said uneasily. "Probably." They all fell into a disconcerting silence, straining fruitlessly to recall if they had seen Harry get grabbed, or which direction he had ran in.

"Well, he's bound to turn up eventually," Ron said brightly, trying to push the worry that Harry might have been unlucky in his escape out of his mind.

"Yeah...let's just wait," George said, and settled into a chair. The others followed suit, mentally preparing themselves for a long wait.

* * *

><p>Reviews will be greatly appreciated :)<p> 


	35. Harder to Breathe

**Author's Note: **A huge thank you to **DarthAbby, Jojo, mybryne, GeorgieForever, EricaX, Aris1013, DisgracedxMia, melkyre, Blue Luver5000, stargirlak, 93 Diagon Alley, Spiralling-Down, Punzie the Platypus,** and**Amanda**for reviewing! I'm so happy that you all like my story! It's a fantastic feeling! I hope you all enjoy this chapter too!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything!

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

**Harder to Breathe**

'_When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love,  
>You'll understand what I mean when I say,<br>There's no way we're gonna give up.  
>And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams,<br>Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe.  
>Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe.'<br>_** ~ 'Harder to Breathe,' Maroon 5**

By the time Harry had arrived back in the dormitory, everyone had either given up for the night, or was half asleep. He looked solemn, an expression that should never have to appear on a fifteen year old's face. They all dive-bombed him with questions, but he refused to answer as he went up to bed; there was something in his tone that alerted them to the guilt and anger Harry was feeling.

Fred and George fell into an uneasy sleep when they finally dragged their exhausted bodies into bed. Fred had insisted on looking him over for injuries to appease his worried mind, and nearly hexed him when he tried to escape. Luckily, George was fine, and they had a salve that was applied to Fred's cheek to clear up the bruise. But the DA was over, and from Harry's somber return, they knew that something much worse had happened.

It wasn't until Fred woke up early the next morning that he paused to think about who had ratted them out. _I bet it was that stupid Hufflepuff,_ Fred gritted his teeth, glaring up at the ceiling. Oh, he'd murder him if he told.

George shifted restlessly beside him before blearily opening one eye. Fred didn't offer a greeting and merely continued to glower at the tapestry like it had done him a great personal offense. George yawned widely before murmuring, "You can stop giving the drapes the evil eye, Fred, I'm pretty sure they're innocent."

Fred gave a hefty sigh. "Well _someone_ gave us up to Umbridge, and I swear to God if it were Zacharias -"

"He was there with us," George interupted. "Why would he rat us out and then get caught?"

"He's a sneak, that's why," Fred fumed.

"Just relax Fred," George yawned again. "I'm sure Harry will tell us what happened." He sighed. "You're not going to go back to sleep, are you?" He took Fred's silence as a 'no.' "Well, guess there's no use to lying here, then, eh?"

He made to get up, but Fred grabbed his collar and yanked him back down. "You're going back to sleep," Fred ordered firmly. "I know you got less sleep than I did."

George rolled his eyes, but just as he was about to say something, Lee burst through the dormitory door. "Come look at this," he said angrily.

Fred and George jumped out of bed and followed an irate Lee down the stairs. "What are you on about?" Fred asked.

Lee pointed to the notice board set up in the Common room. "Decree number Twenty-Eight," Lee said, disgusted. "She made herself Head Mistress of the school."

"What?" George gaped. "But...Dumbledore..."

"He's gone," Lee said grimly.

"They didn't _sack_ him, did they?" Fred demanded, not wanting to believe it. "I mean, he's _Dumbledore."_

"Apparently the Minister tried to arrest him last night," Lee informed. "But he didn't give him the chance. I think that's why Harry was like that last night. He knew."

Rage began to build within Fred. That toad couldn't become Head of the school! Swearing loudly, he seized George's wrist and pulled him stiffly away from the stares of curious Gryffindors. Lee followed, not sure what Fred was going to do.

Fred didn't stop until they were in an empty corridor. He released George's arm and began pacing angrily as Lee came up beside George. George watched him without seeing him. He was still dazed at the fact that Dumbledore was gone.

Lee watched the older twin warily, however. "Fred, mate -"

Fists clenched unconsciously, he snarled, "We can't let her do this. She's a _monster,_ she'll torture everyone in the school..." he paused and looked at George. "You...she'll come after you, Forge. She'll..." Fred clenched his fists tighter.

George had no reply. There was nothing stopping her now. With Dumbledore as the Head Master, he had at least stood in the way of Umbridge doing whatever she wanted. Now...she had all the power. "We have to do something before next week," George said finally.

"Why next week?" Lee asked.

"Well, I have my meeting with Mr. Rikialria next week, and I don't think I'll be able to do anything for a few days afterwards."

Fred growled viciously, hating this. "We have to do something before she...if she dares to do anything while you're recovering..."

Fred was still pacing aggravatingly, muttering what were probably strings of profanities under his breath. George watched him before he continued, "You know, if it comes down to it, I'd rather leave of my own free will, right? We never planned on taking the NEWTs in the first place, anyway. I say we show her what mayhem really is before we leave."

Lee and Fred looked at him for a few seconds before breaking out in smiles. "Brilliant idea dear brother o' mine," Fred declared proudly, coming up to clap him on the back. But he sombered up instantly. "We'll have to find another way for Mr. Rikialria to help you. We'll have to tell him next week, and trust he won't ruin it for us."

"So, what, I go to St. Mungo's?" George asked.

"You'd have to," Lee replied. "I mean, he can't do it at your shop, right?"

"But Apparating," Fred said sharply. His piercing gaze was on George. "You can't Apparate. Not...not after last time."

"Perhaps the train?" George suggested. He grimaced. "Though that wasn't exactly a pleasant travel, I think it's the best bet we have."

Fred sighed. "I suppose."

George nudged him and smiled brightly, "Cheer up. We have much planning to do if we want to give Umbridge the hell ride of her life."

Fred for the first time since he'd heard the awful news, grinned. "Too right you are, George. Too right you are."

* * *

><p>They put their plan in action the very next morning while everyone else was in their first period class. Fred, George, and Lee had gathered as many fireworks as they had made, or, nearly all; they wanted to keep some for their shop, and even Lee threw in a few of his sparklers to add to the display. They spent a good hour positioning them, making sure the right fireworks were in the right spot.<p>

"Think it's ready?" George asked, quirking up an eyebrow as he grinned.

"Oh yeah," Fred said excitedly.

"Should we light them all at once?" Lee asked, eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Might as well," George said. "I mean, don't wanna get caught, right?"

"Count of three?" Fred said.

"One -"

"Two -"

"Three!"

"_Incendio!"_ they all cried, setting the fireworks ablaze.

There was a loud bang and a sudden flash of heat and light that disoriented George for a few seconds, until the roar of Fred's laughter sounded in his ear, bringing him back. "Let's go," he chortled.

"Oh, I hope she tries to vanish them," George cackled as they ran from the scene of the crime. "They'll multiply by ten each time she tries."

"You did that?" Fred asked, something akin to awe. "How?"

"Oh, I was just...researching," he winked. "Amazing what you can find if you know where to look."

Fred beamed proudly and reached over to ruffle George's hair affectionately. "You truly are an evil genius, George."

George grinned, but raised an eyebrow. "What, was there doubt before?"

They fled with barely concealed howls to a hidden door behind a tapestry not too far away, and as they fell into it, they gave in to their glee. There was another loud bang and a girlish scream not too far away.

"Ah, that'd be Umbridge," Fred grinned. "The sweet sound of revenge." His eyes took on a dreamy look as he basked in their success.

"That should drive home the message," Lee said in a satisfied tone. "How long do you think it'll take for her to figure out how to get rid of them?"

"I doubt the teachers will be of any help," George chuckled. "So, I'd say we're in here for the long run, mate."

* * *

><p>The three were nearly worshipped as soon as they stepped foot in the Gryffindor Common room later that evening. People were cheering and whistling as they strode in, and some even asked for their autographs. It was, by far, one of their better nights. They all partied and celebrated their win over Umbridge well into the night, and word spread around quickly to the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, not that it was surprising, and they too winked at them as they passed and people they didn't know came running up to gush their admiration and being generally disgusting for what they did.<p>

And as the days bled into the next week, they couldn't find themselves in a bad mood as they all walked to the Hospital Wing. As soon as they entered, Madam Pomfrey bustled over with an odd look of praise in her eyes. She quickly glanced around before slipping them each a treat, something they were all astounded and pleased by. She put a finger to her lips and said quietly, "No one needs to know about this, right boys?" They all nodded. She winked and smiled warmly. "It was a nice show. I'll go fetch Mr. Rikialria."

They couldn't help but think that this was a good sign. George's head was hurting him less, and he seemed overall a lot happier as of late, much to Fred's relief. Mr. Rikialria came out of Madam Pomfrey's office and greeted them with a smile as well. "How are you feeling, George?"

"Pretty good," George grinned back.

"Are you ready?"

"Mhmm," George nodded, happily complying for the first time. He couldn't imagine anything ruining his fantastic mood.

Mr. Rikialria seemed surprised, but not unhappily so, at George's compliance and turned to Fred and Lee. "You can come back in a few hours, alright?"

Fred hesitated for a split second, looking at George, before nodding and saying, "Sure. See you, George!"

George grinned and waved, and both Fred and Lee left in good spirits, the actuality of what was going to happen never hitting them.

"So, what should we do now that we're alone and Georgeless?" Lee asked as they descended the staircase.

"Huh, I don't know," Fred replied. "Perhaps visit Hagrid or the Giant Squid -"

"Giant Squid," Lee interupted immediately. "You know how I like the Giant Squid."

Fred laughed. "Right. Giant Squid it is. But we should make sure to come back in a few days. George may like him more than you do."

Lee waved a hand in denial and they both walked outside into the sunny air. Even the weather was jovial.

They walked serenely down to their usual spot underneath the tree by the lake. The two made splashes to alert the squid that they were there, and settled back against the tree's trunk to wait. "You know, I'm surprised Umbridge hasn't murdered us yet," Lee suddenly piped up. "You'd think she'd connect the dots."

"Not exactly smart, is she?" Fred snorted, though he too started to look puzzled. "You don't reckon she's planning something, do you?"

Lee frowned. "I dunno, but I don't think we should get paranoid just yet. George is in the Hospital Wing and soon we'll be up to join him. And despite Umbridge claiming to be the Head Mistress, Madam Pomfrey would sooner sprout wings and do the cha-cha than let her disturb one of her patients."

Fred smirked at that. "Yeah, you're right. We should all be safe for a little while. Merlin knows there's nothing scarier than an angry Madam Pomfrey."

Lee chortled, but just as he seemed about to reply, a small tentacle shot upwards out of the water, commanding their attention fairly quickly. Excited, the two wizards jumped to their feet and watched as several other tentacles came up and began encircling them. They nudged around, poking Fred in the stomach and Lee in the back of his head. But its tentacle found no other ginger to be totally enraptured by it.

The squid's giant head suddenly and slowly began to surface as two of his tentacles began swimming around Fred and Lee. One enormous eye, about the size of Fred himself, peeked up out of the water, black and searching for someone the two quickly realised was George.

"He's not here," Fred apologised. "He's, erm, not feeling so well."

The squid almost seemed to frown with its eye at that, before it shuddered in delight as they began to tickle it. Fred and Lee felt like little kids as they reached up to stroke the dancing arms of the squid. The Giant Squid playfully encircled the two wizards, prodding affectionately and shivering as their hair or their arms tickled its tentacles.

They didn't know how long they stayed there, laughing and grinning and watching as the Giant Squid seemed to laugh itself; twice Fred could have sworn it had smiled at him.

The day was perfect. Or so it seemed.

A ginger younger than the one with the squid came hurtling out of the castle, having spent an hour running around on the inside, searching for one person. He knew of Fred's fondness for the Giant Squid, a creature he had never met, and hoped that he would find him there.

Already out of breath, the young wizard fought the stitch in his side and sprinted towards the lake as fast as his legs would carry him. Spotting Fred wasn't hard, and the ginger thanked Merlin that they had been born with such fiery hair. _"Fred!"_ he bellowed

Fred looked up at the call of his name, eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "Ron?"

"Fred!" Ron gasped, skidding to a stop. He doubled over, breathing hard. "It's...George..."

Fred's heart stopped. He pushed free of the squids tentacles roughly. "What happened?" he demanded urgently.

Ron carried a saddened look in his eyes, the same look he bore when George was at St. Mungo's, and when they learned their father had been attacked. "He went under," Ron replied grimly.

* * *

><p>Those words fell on a heavy heart. "What?" Fred asked stupidly. Those words didn't make sense.<p>

Lee was frozen in place, one hand still outstretched towards the squid. He looked at Ron with widened eyes, his face drained of all colour. "That's not possible," Lee finally stammered.

"Well, I went up to check on him 'cause I haven't seen him for the past few days and I opened the door and I saw the Healer from St. Mungo's standing there and George was lying on the bed but when I came closer he grabbed my shoulder and he said to get you, and I asked why, and he said that George fell into a coma, and I didn't know what he was talking about and -" Ron took a deep breath, having said that very fast. "And...and..." Ron couldn't say more, his face sullen and melancholy.

Fred felt light headed. He swayed on the spot, refusing to take in what his brother had said. George...George couldn't have...

He ran.

There wasn't any clear thought that prompted him to action, but before he was aware of anything, he was sprinting hell bent into the castle. All senses left him but sight. He didn't hear the people he pushed out of his way or the pounding of his feet. He didn't feel the wind whipping his hair or the feel of his hands pushing the doors to the Hospital Wing open. The only thing he heard was the blood thumping in his ears as his dazed eyes landed on Mr. Rikialria, and then his twin, pale on the bed.

He stood in the doorway for what felt like an eternity until he somehow made it to George's side. "Georgie?" he whispered, his voice breaking the illusion as everything rushed back to him.

George lay still, his skin sickly and a cold sweat on his brow. Fred sat on the chair already placed by his bed, lifting a shaky hand to brush a sweat soaked swathe of hair away from his eyes. They were closed and twitching, giving the impression that they were rolling madly underneath the lids. Fred looked up at Mr. Rikialria, waiting for an answer, no matter what it was.

He had never seen Mr. Rikialria look so sorrowful. "He has slipped. The meeting, along with everything that has happened to him, was too much. But do not lose hope, Mr. Weasley," he added softly. "You brother is strong. There is still a chance he will turn out alright."

Fred couldn't speak. He gripped George's hand as the door flew open behind him. "George! Fred," Lee panted, coming up behind him. "Fred..."

Fred bowed, resting his forehead on their hands. He heard Lee's breathing hitch and he felt Lee's hand rest on his shoulder, but he shook it off. Fred wanted everyone gone. He hated the people in this room, he wanted them to leave. He shook with anger as he sat upright.

"Fred -"

"Go." Fred snarled, his voice quiet but full of venom, surprising his friend.

"Fred -"

"GO!" Fred roared, whirling around to glare murderously at everyone in the room. "ALL OF YOU! GO!"

Madam Pomfrey, Mr. Rikialria, Lee, and all of the other patients were stunned. "Now, Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey scolded.

But Fred wasn't going to listen. He was beyond all reason. Fred whipped out his wand and shouted, "NO! ALL OF YOU _LEAVE!"_ His wand sparked beyond his control, shooting out towards them. They all had to dodge to avoid getting burned by the flecks of fire.

For the first time in his life, Lee was a little afraid of his friend. He seemed beyond rational thought, but grief can do that to a person. The last time he lost control like this, though Lee didn't know it, was when Bill had led him to believe that George had died. But then, it hadn't escaladed to this, since George had awakened merely minutes after, effectively calming him.

George wouldn't waken for at least a few days, so Fred was very unstable. Madam Pomfrey looked like she would repremend him severely, but the Healer laid a hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps we should give them time. Pull the drapes around, let them sit alone."

Fred turned his back on them and sat down, eyes locking on George once more. He felt a presence behind him, and he heard footsteps retreat. "He will wake, Mr. Weasley," a deep, calming voice told him as the pull of drapes sounded.

"Why did this have to happen? And to him?" Fred said quietly.

There was a long pause before Mr. Rikialria said softly, "We can't control what life hands to us, but everything happens for a reason." He pulled the rest of the drapes around. "Be patient, Fred. George will pull through. Have faith in him."

Fred didn't answer, and merely clasped George's hand harder as he heard the Healer's foot steps walk away. He had faith in his brother. It was his God awful luck that Fred was afraid of. He lifted his free hand to comb through George's hair, and it was then that his eyes burned.

* * *

><p>Oh reviews are lovely if you get the chance :)<p> 


	36. Permanent

**Author's Note: **Ahh, not many people liked that chapter :P But that's alright, I have my reasons for this plotline, and if needed I can explain the thinking behind it at the end. Which should only, actually, be a few chapters away! :'( Anyways, you guys are probably going to hate me for this one too, but hopefully by the end of the story you'll forgive me :P Reviews are always welcome! And thank you to **EricaX, **ZivaLou**, Anonymous, mybryne, Spiralling-Down, stargirlak, BeingHannah923, Dimcairien, Jojo, GeorgieForever, SolelyReader**, **DisgracedxMia**, **Cristina Weasley**, **melkyre, Aris1013**, **Blue Luver5000,** and** Punzie the Platypus **for reviewing :) And also, I apologise for the late update, but I had to get a new Wifi thingy and they couldn't come in to…install I suppose the word would be? Anyways, they couldn't come in to 'install' it until actually a few hours ago.

**Disclaimer:** I sadly own nothing.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once A Weasley<em>**

'_..But still you say,  
>Will you think that you're all alone,<br>When there's no one there to hold your hand?  
>When all you know seems so far away,<br>And everything is temporary, rest your head.  
>I'm permanent.'<br>_** ~ 'Permanent,' David Cook**

George felt weird.

He didn't know where he was, but this wasn't what was supposed to happen when he laid his head down for Mr. Rikialria to begin. For one thing, he didn't feel any pain. Second, he wasn't at Hogwarts.

He was standing in a white room, a place he had never been before, and it worried him a tad. He tried to walk, but he was rooted to the spot, like vines had snared him and kept him in place. The white...it was starting to hurt his eyes; it was too bright.

George felt afraid for a few moments; he couldn't find Fred. He wanted Fred with him, because Fred always made him feel better. He was George's comfort zone, the person he could retreat to when things got too bad, or if he simply wanted a laugh. So why...why wasn't Fred with him?

But suddenly, two gingers came running out of nowhere, and George was stunned to find that they were twins. It was them. It was Fred and him, running and giggling and ducking behind a tree. They crouched down low, George's hand over Fred's mouth, and his over George's as they tried to stifle their laughter. Faintly he heard the sound of Mrs. Weasley shouting, and that only caused the younger versions of them to laugh even more.

George closed his eyes, swaying. Everything was coming back, hitting him at full force.

He swayed some more.

He fell.

* * *

><p>Fred hadn't slept. He merely sat in place, frozen save for his gentle fingers running through George's hair and the occassional movement of his lips as he talked to his unconscious twin. People tried to visit him, but Fred would not allow that. He even pleased himself to make Hermione cry, though he knew he'd feel awful about it later. But right now, he hated everyone. Hated them for trying to force themselves into their little world.<p>

Because when you got right down to it, it was just George and him. That's how it had always been, and he reckoned that was how it would always stay. Lee was the only one who could stay with him after the first day, because he had gone through everything with them. He allowed blood relations to visit day and night, and even then only for brief periods of time. If they lingered longer, his wand would spark and he would snarl and order them out.

But right now, he was quiet. Fred was never a serious or quiet bloke, but right now, he had never felt a less desire to laugh. He gently stroked George's hair, watching his face avidly, praying that he would awake soon. It was hell for Fred not to be able to talk to him. So he found himself unable to say much at all, unless it was to the twin who could not hear him.

He missed him. Fred didn't know how to function without his best mate; he never had to before. And he hoped he wouldn't have to in the future.

"Fred," Lee suddenly spoke, his voice a bit rough after such a long time without it being used.

Fred inclined his head in his friend's direction to show that he had heard him, though his eyes never left his brother's face.

"It's been three days."

Fred's breathing faltered a bit, though he still didn't look at him. "I know how long it's been, Lee," he replied so softly Lee barely heard him.

Lee paused, the saddness in Fred's voice hurting him. And as much as he knew Fred wouldn't want to hear this, and as much as he didn't want to tell him, someone had to. "Fred, I think you should leave for a bit." Fred stiffened. "Get some fresh air, _eat._ Fred, he might not wake for weeks."

Those words struck Fred in the heart, causing anger to course through him. "And he might wake any minute," he snapped, turning to glare at Lee. "I am not going to miss it."

"You'll end up in the hospital bed if you don't take care of yourself," Lee scolded lightly. "Fred, you're exhausted. At least sleep. I'll wake you up if anything happens, okay? And then you are eating a train full of food, and don't refuse, because I will force feed you if I have to Fred Weasley."

Fred stared at him for a moment, mildly surprised, before he broke into the first grin in seventy-two hours. "Yes Mum," he teased.

Lee stuck his tongue out, but pulled Fred up and forced him into the nearest empty bed. Fred began to get a little anxious, and stared at George's drawn drapes. Lee noticed and said, "Don't worry, Fred. I'll watch him, and if he so much as twitches, I'll wake you up. Okay?"

Fred nodded tiredly, suddenly overwhelmingly exhausted. He fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Lee had to tuck him in, since he didn't bother to pull the blankets over himself; he got the feeling that he would be sleeping for a while. He drew the drapes around him as well so he wouldn't be bothered, and went back to sit in Fred's chair by George. George's face had since calmed, and he looked tranquil...peaceful. Lee fought the lump in his throat. _Shut up,_ he berated himself. _George is fine._

Lee watched him for a few moments before he tentatively reached out to brush his fingers through George's hair. He knew Fred did it because it calmed his twin, and he figured that while the real Fred slept, he would have to be Fred for now. "Now I just need hair dye," he muttered to himself before chuckling. He sat back. "You know, you're a right git," he told him. "Not intentionally, mind, but if you had been more careful then Fred and I wouldn't be having anxiety attacks over here." He paused and sat in silence, looking at one of his best friends. "Then again," he mused quietly, "we were gits too for not watching you better. I mean, you lost your memory, you can't be expected to know everything, and Merlin knows that if Fred heard me talking like this, I wouldn't be _able_ to talk for a week, if you know what I mean."

"He's scared, you know," Lee murmured. "So am I, but he's _really_ scared, George. I've never seen him like this; nearly all of the fight has gone out of him. I guess you probably have, but I'm still new to this sort of thing. So you better come out alright, because I think it would kill him if you didn't. It would hurt us all terribly, but...Fred's right. He'll always hurt more, because you guys are twins." He snorted to himself. "Not that I need to remind you of that, it's not like him being your twin is new or anything."

Lee stopped suddenly. "Merlin, I sound like a girl," he chuckled, shaking his head at himself. "I need to stop thinking so much. And stop talking to a comatose friend..." But that sombered him up instantly. "You better come out alright," he said gruffly, running his hands through George's ginger hair. He sighed; might as well get it off his chest while there were no witnesses around. "I'm scared too, George. I'm worried you'll end up suffering, I'm worried what that will do to both you and Fred. I just...I want you back, mate. I want Fred back. I want our old life back, and, I know, it won't ever be exactly the same, but...I _can't_ keep wondering if each time you fall asleep you might not wake up. And I can't watch Fred be even more afraid than I am. He hasn't left your side, and if he wasn't so exhausted, I doubt I would have been able to make him." But Lee's voice suddenly became adamant.

"But you had better not think this is your fault, or I might have to kill you. You _need_ to let go of that guilt you still have. You need to let go of _everything_ you don't tell us. It's killing Fred too. Everything that happens to you kills him. I don't think you realise..." Lee stopped again, though this time to swallow the lump in his throat. "You know, sometimes I wonder who suffers more. I guess it's equal, because Merlin knows you have suffered _a lot,_ George. But Fred...he's suffered too. You don't see the way he acts when you're not looking. Even in his sleep he's afraid you'll disappear. George, he _reaches_ for you when he's asleep! I wonder if he will ever get over it," he murmured to himself. "I wonder if either of you will."

Lee heard rustling behind him, and he stood, pulling the drapes back and getting ready to snap at someone, when he realised the rustling had been Fred. Fred was tossing and turning, a panicked expression on his face. He was groping blindly next to him, and Lee realised with a start that Fred was looking for George.

"Fred," Lee said, shaking his shoulder. He didn't wake up and his panicked look became terrified, and he was thrashing even more. "FRED!" Lee bellowed, shaking him hard, finally startling him into awareness. Lee inwardly smacked himself; he should have known better than to have Fred sleep in a different bed.

Fred was panting hard and there was a thin layer of cold sweat on his brow. He flew out of the covers and threw the drapes apart, eyes landing on George immediately. He lay as still as ever. Fred didn't say a word and merely sank into the chair, head in his hands.

Lee's heart went out to the poor lad, and he came up and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "C'mon, mate, climb in bed, you still need rest."

Fred didn't waste time feeling uncomfortable about the situation; he simply stood and shifted George gently so he could slid in next to him, tucking him so tight in his side Lee thought that it would have hurt if George wasn't unconscious. Fred closed his eyes, but looked instantly more calm. "Thanks," Fred murmured as he settled himself in for another nap.

Lee gave him a crooked smile, even though he knew Fred couldn't see it. "No problem, mate."

* * *

><p>Fred awoke a while later while the sun was still up, and he noticed rustling beyond the drapes. Confused, Fred rubbed at his eyes just as their parents came peeking in. But they weren't alone. For the first time, their entire family had come at once, Bill and Charlie included. Percy didn't count, and Fred wasn't sure he'd forgive him for not caring whether his brother would be okay or not. "Oh my boys," Mrs. Weasley whimpered, holding out her arms for Fred to get up and hug her.<p>

Normally, Fred would protest and tell their Mum to not being such a sap, but he found that he needed this comfort. Fred gingerly got out out bed and tucked George in before he gave his Mum a hug.

"How's he doing?" Bill asked somberly, whipping up a few more chairs. Charlie pulled the drapes back so they all could have more room. Lee, Fred noticed, was not present, and he figured he must have left so they could just be together as a family.

Fred sank into the chair by George's head and said nothing, which worried them all terribly. "How are you doing, honey?" Mrs. Weasley asked gently, coming up behind him to gently run her fingers through Fred's hair.

That was such a loaded question that Fred didn't know if he could articulate it properly. He was scared. Fred was beyond worried about whether George would be okay when he came out of his coma, and he didn't think he could take it if he didn't. And he missed his twin, even though he never left his side. He missed talking to him, laughing with him, planning pranks with him. He missed just George being awake. So, in answer to Mrs. Weasley's question, Fred shrugged, eyes never leaving George.

"Oh Fred, I know it's hard," Mrs. Weasley said tearfully, coming to sit beside him. She pulled him into another hug, and that was when Fred broke. He gripped his Mum back and finally let out nealry four days' worth of sobs into her shoulder. Mum's have this special ability of making you weep even when you were determined not to, something Fred never understood.

Everyone watched as Fred, the brother they had barely ever witness cry, bury his face in their Mum's shoulder. Bill and Charlie hadn't seen George yet, and simply stood there dumbly, looking at their younger brother. "Do...do they know how long he'll be out for?" Bill asked finally. Fred shook his head, though he still did not speak.

"What will happen if...when he wakes up?" Charlie asked.

Fred froze something awful, something that worried the family immensely. He roughly pulled back from his Mum and propped his elbows on his knees, pressing his eyes into his hands. "He will wake," Fred eventually said softly, feeling everyone's gaze on him. "But he...he..." Fred found the words stuck in his throat, and couldn't force them past his lips.

"He what?" Ron demanded, but was cuffed on the head by Bill.

"Leave him alone, Ron," Ginny snapped, her face white. She walked to sit on the other side of George. Ginny bit her lip and lowered her gaze to her knees, sniffling. Mr. Weasley, who had simply stared at George, came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

Fred didn't raise his head for a long time. But when he did, he grabbed George's hand and gave it a squeeze, trying not to notice how it didn't squeeze back. He gazed at George's face as if he would awake if Fred stared long and hard enough. Merlin, he'd give anything for George to open his eyes again. Anything.

He pretended his family wasn't there, even though the low murmurs aggravated him. But he didn't have the strength or the will to yell at them. He didn't have the motivation to do much as of late. He'd barely eaten, and he was sure Lee would be back to force feed him later, but he didn't feel hungry. Which was odd, because normally, Weasley boys had bottomless pits for stomachs.

"Are you alright?" came Charlie's low voice from beside him, murmurs from everyone else still going on.

Fred looked to his left and found Charlie staring at him worriedly, sitting in a chair of his very own. Fred gave a half-hearted shrug once more, but didn't say anything as he turned away.

"You know, I have a couple of new dragon stories if you want to hear them," Charlie offered hopefully, nudging him with his shoulder.

Fred was a bit startled by the suggestion; they hadn't heard dragon stories from Charlie in years. In some ways his words were comforting, and in others, they hurt. "George always did like those," Fred said so quietly it was barely audible.

Charlie grimaced, but then forced a bright smile on his face. "Well, if I remember correctly, so did you."

Fred stared at his fingers, twiddling his thumbs. It was true, he did. But there was something wrong about listening to a story when his twin wasn't beside him to be equally enthralled.

Charlie didn't want to push and changed tactics. "How's your inventing going?" he asked quietly so Mrs. Weasley wouldn't hear him.

"Fine."

"Do you guys already have a place?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah," Fred replied tonelessly.

"Where is it?"

"Diagon Alley."

Charlie frowned at the brief responses. But then he got an idea. "Hey, Fred, what do you say to playing a little Quidditch?"

"No thanks," Fred said stiffly.

"C'mon, you love Quidditch -"

"No thank you," Fred replied almost harshly.

Charlie gave Bill, who had been watching them the entire time, a helpless look. He didn't want to push him, but he knew Fred needed to get some fresh air, forget about George for a bit.

"What's going on?" Bill asked pleasantly, keeping an eye on Fred the entire time.

"I was thinking of going out to play a little Quidditch," Charlie told him. "It's beautiful outside, and I haven't played on the pitch in _years."_

"Great!" Bill said enthusiastically. "Fred, you coming?"

"No."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Don't be stubborn, c'mon, I heard you aren't playing on the team anymore -"

"Who told you that?" Fred interupted curtly.

Bill looked a bit confused. "Erm, well Ron mentioned that you two weren't on the team. George, for obvious reasons, but why did you stop?"

Fred didn't answer. If Bill couldn't figure it out, he wasn't going to tell him.

Charlie nudged Bill, and gave a pointed look at George. "Ah," Bill said. "Well, we can all play Quidditch when George wakes up, but let's get some fresh air. It's stuffy in here."

Fred closed his eyes. He didn't know if George would be able to play Quidditch once he woke up. And what if George woke up as soon as he left? He'd never forgive himself if he wasn't there when George opened his eyes. "I'm fine," he said cooly, opening his eyes again.

Bill snorted. "Clearly not. C'mon, just for one hour, that's all we're asking."

Fred grumbled angrily, but complied nevertheless. He knew that Bill moreso than Charlie would keep pestering him until he gave in, and he'd rather not set Bill on fire. _Although,_ Fred pondered randomly, _with his long hair it _would_ look pretty cool..._ he smirked evily while he followed Bill, Charlie, Ron, and Ginny outside. He'd have to talk it over with Georgie once...but his thoughts tapered off at that, cringing at the possibility that it might not matter if George woke up wrong.

Fred slouched down to the Quidditch pitch, giving Bill and Charlie glares each time they looked back to see if he was still following. "Cheer up, mate," Charlie said brightly to Fred once they all grabbed their brooms. "It'll be fun. We haven't all played Quidditch together in a long time."

That was true, and normally Fred would be excited about a family game, but not this time. He reluctantly flew into the air, looking particularly disinterested. It was a look they all hadn't seen on him while flying.

Bill and Charlie shared a glance before lifting up into the air, followed by Ginny and a nervous Ron. Neither Bill nor Charlie had seen Ron play before, and he was rubbish when his nerves got the best of him.

They cut out the Beater position all together because they could only sneak the Quaffle and the Snitch, as they were the more docile balls. Bill and Charlie offered to play short hand, so Ginny, Fred, and Ron were all on a team. Charlie, of course, would play Seeker, as would Ginny; she seemed to have developed a talent for it. Ron would play Keeper, Fred would be a Chaser, and Bill would play both positions somehow. They all knew that the teams would have been even with George, but no one voiced it.

All in all, the game was a complete disaster. Ginny and Charlie were really the only ones who did their job correctly. Fred didn't put up much of an effort and merely flew aimlessly all over the pitch, and Ron was too worked up to catch anything. Ginny ended up playing Chaser as well to keep the game from being one-sided, and Bill got confused as to which positions he was in charge of after a while.

But, Fred noted, it _had_ been good to get outside for a bit, even if most of the time he watched with detached amusement as everyone fumbled across the pitch. But once it became clear that he would not be hunted like an animal if he tried to go back up to the castle, he nearly killed himself getting off the broom so fast.

"_Oi!"_ Bill shouted as Fred leapt from ten feet in the air, leaving his broom hovering. _"Fred!_ Watch what you're doing!"

But Fred paid him no mind and tore across the grounds, nearly running over a third year in his haste. He threw open the door and ran inside, startling his parents nearly out of their skins. "Fred," Mrs. Weasley gasped, hand to her heart. But then she got stern. "Don't scare me like that."

Fred ignored her and took his place by George's head, panting. Mr. Weasley frowned, but said bracingly, "How was the game?"

Fred gave a small grunt as his only response, looking at George again. But before his father could press any further, another person came into the room. Fred looked up and was a little surprised to see Mr. Rikialria.

"How is he doing?" he asked Mr. and Mrs. Weasley kindly.

"How do you think?" Fred replied rudely, his face set.

"Fred," Mrs. Weasley snapped. She turned back to the Healer and said apologetically, "I'm sorry."

But Mr. Rikialria waved away the apology. "I believe your son and I have gotten to know each other quite well over the months," Mr. Rikialria said smiling.

Mrs. Weasley gave Fred a sharp look while Mr. Weasley asked worriedly, "Is there anything you can do to make him wake up quicker?"

At this, Mr. Rikialria's smile vanished. "I'm afraid not, else I would have given it to him," he replied sadly.

Mrs. Weasley teared up and her husband put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Oh my poor boy."

Fred's features were rigid, his hands balled into fists. But then he looked back at George, at his pale still face, completely unaware of everything that was happening around him, and softened. He reached out to comb his fingers through George's hair without any conscious thought of doing so, feeling the ginger strands he unceremoniously chopped off.

Mr. Rikialria watched him for a few moments before he said, "I'm sorry I can't do more." He seemed to be speaking to Fred alone

Mrs. Weasley didn't see it, and replied, "Nonsense." She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. "You've done more than enough for helping us."

Fred looked up at him, searching his face, before nodding slightly and giving him a small smile. It didn't seem like much, but all things considering, it was like Fred had hugged him. Mr. Rikialria visibly relaxed, having needed Fred's understanding before he left again. "I'll be back in a few days to check up on him," he said in parting. "If he awakes before then, contact me immediately."

"Of course," Mr. Weasley said.

Charlie, Bill, Ginny, and Ron all came bustling into the room just as Mr. Rikialria had disappeared into Madam Pomfrey's office. Which, given their muddy clothing, was the last straw for said school Healer. "Visiting time is now over," she called sternly, a mullish expression on her face as she cleared up the muddy footprints trailing into her Hospital Wing. Of course, she was directing her order to everyone save for Fred; they had this understanding now that Fred would and Lee were going to stay whether she approved of it or not.

"Try to get some sleep," Mrs. Weasley told Fred as she hugged him. That paved the way for everyone to bade their farewells to the older twin, but the most reaction they got from him was an impassive expression and a few muttered goodbyes.

It wasn't long until it was Fred and George yet again. And it wasn't long until it no longer remained so.

"Fred!" Lee cried, running. "Family...gone?" he gasped, hands on knees.

Fred raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. "No, Lee, they're here. They just all happened to come visit in Invisibility cloaks."

"Haha," Lee rolled his eyes, making to sit in the chair.

"Wait!" Fred cried, startling Lee up.

"What?" Lee asked, panicked.

"Ginny's sitting there," Fred smirked.

Lee made a rude gesture and sat in the chair. But as soon as he did, his face went uncharacteristically serious. "Fred, I have something to tell you, and, well...you're not going to like it."

Fred sat up intently, eyes straying to George. "Please tell me it's not about who I think it is."

"Well that would depend on who you're thinking of, but if you're thinking of the same person I think you think I'm thinking of, then yes."

Fred stared at him, trying to work out that sentence. "Yeah, but...I...just tell me, would you? I'm not Hermione, I don't talk riddles."

"It's Umbridge," Lee scowled. "Ever since she's been Head Mistress she's been looking for the two of you. We've managed to lead her away from the Hospital Wing, and I didn't want to tell you, but...well, it's getting harder to do. And now that she has no one to stop her..."

Fred felt like he got dunked in cold water. "She can do whatever the bloody hell she wants," he said through gritted teeth.

"She will do worse than a few hand-slicing detentions, mate," Lee said grimly. "Word is, she's trying to get whipping approved as a source of punishment."

Fred's jaw dropped open. "Wha - she - no -" he spluttered, outraged. "She can't bloody do that! How the hell will that get passed?"

"She's got the Ministry wrapped around her stubby, fat little finger," Lee growled. "I wouldn't be surprised if the bloody sadistic sorry excuse for a human aimed to get the _Crucio_ curse approved next."

The two fell into an uneasy silence, knowing that that was exactly what she would end up doing. "We have to get her out of here, Lee," Fred said seriously. "Even if we do end up escaping her, my brother and sister are still here. They're my family, I can't have them stay in a place where it's acceptable to _torture_ the students."

"I don't know what to do here, Fred," Lee replied almost helplessly. "It seems either way we're all screwed. But we have to do something or she'll find a way to get at you two." But a sudden idea struck him. He snapped a finger and said excitedly, "Hey! What if we just keep wiping her memory?"

Fred, however, shook his head. "People will get suspicious, and she's never alone anymore. We can't wipe the entire school's memory. Anyways, we're both rubbish at it, and Hermione wouldn't do it for us just because."

"But she hates Umbridge too," Lee countered, "and she did it for us all those other times."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to get sent to Azkaban? 'Cause that's what will happen if we get caught."

"Fine, fine," Lee grouched. They both turned back to look at George breathing slow and deep, never faltering. "But we have to do something."

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><p>Reviews are always welcomed :)<p> 


	37. Creationist

**Author's Note: **Ah! So, I finished this chapter early, and I just want to say that you guys are fantastic :D I'm touched you all don't seem to want this story to end! It's truly the best thing I could have ever asked for. So it's with a heavy heart that I say that this is the second to last chapter :( I always knew at what point I wanted to end it, and sadly, it's coming very quickly. But, that's later! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and a VERY special thank you to **Cristina Weasley, **GeorgieForever**, Spiralling-Down, Punzie the Platypus, melkyre, Jojo, DisgracedxMia**, **Aris1013**, **Blue Luver5000, BeingHannah923, ZivaLou, stargirlak, **and** mybryne **for reviewing!

**Disclaimer: **I have no ownership whatsoever.

**Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

'_Life is my creation, is my best friend,  
>Imagination is my defense,<br>And I'll keep going when skies are grey,  
>Whatever happens was meant that way.<br>I'm a creationist.'  
><em>**'The Creationist,' Kerli**

Fred sat by George's bedside, as per usual, and feeling like there wasn't enough time in the day, yet too many minutes in an hour. It felt like time was moving by both quickly, and slowly. Slowly, because every second that George was unconscious felt like a lifetime. Yet, it passed too quickly because he and Lee needed to come up with a plan as to how to keep Umbridge away from the twins by, well, yesterday. She could burst through the door any second, and both wizards were at a loss as to what to do.

Fred wished he could talk to George about it; even if he didn't have any more of an idea than he himself did, he at least felt like whatever they did decide to do, they could pull it off. Organising a plan without him made Fred feel lost; he'd never done it before, and he never wanted to. Yet here he was, trying to think through his haze of numbness. He was past feeling sorrow, fear...his body seemed to reject those basic emotions. Instead he felt nothing, and Fred, well-known to being unable to sit in one place for more than twenty minutes, could spend hours and hours without moving, watching his twin.

If it wasn't for Lee force feeding him, he doubted he would. And he would only sleep when Lee could be awake to make sure Fred didn't miss George awakening, but unbeknownst to Fred, Lee always went to sleep just after Fred, and managed to wake up just before. It wasn't that he thought it was unimportant, but if Lee slept through the day, he wouldn't be able to force Fred to take care of himself. He made Fred leave to shower every other day, and forced food down his throat at the very least three times a day.

Fred was impassive for most of the time, and unresponsive unless asked something several times. Lee was worried about what was going on inside him, what was running through his mind. He was concerned that Fred might never get over it, that even when George awoke, he'd never let go. It scared him about as much as waiting for George to wake up and see if anything was wrong with him.

Lee, presently, was carrying as much food as he could carry that he nicked from the kitchens for Fred and himself. He managed to knock the Hospital Wing door open with his hip without dislodging anything from his arms and headed over to George's bed. He peered through the drapes, and noticed with a pain that Fred was staring blankly at George's form. "Hey, Fred," he said in a false upbeat voice.

Fred barely aknowledged him. It had been three days since Lee told him about Umbridge, and for some reason, ever since then Fred hadn't really been...here. His mind was far off, somewhere out of Hogwarts, out of reality. Lee had a lot of time to think both about what they could do about her, and what was causing Fred's distance. He wondered if it was because Fred wasn't quite sure how to go about planning without his partner in crime. It made sense, considering that it was ever since he told him about Umbridge that he changed.

And today, Lee was determined to bring him out of it. "Fred," he said loudly, reaching forward to shake his shoulder.

"Hmm?" Fred sounded, seeming to just realise that Lee was there.

Lee was just happy Fred answered. "Here," he said, handing him a few pieces of toast and bacon. "Eat. You need it."

Fred mechanically reached out for the food and ate it without tasting it.

Lee, himself, didn't touch his own food, and merely watched Fred carefully. "You need to snap out of this, mate," he said fiercely. "We need to figure something out, we can't waste anymore time. And...Fred," he said forcefully, seeing that Fred wasn't really listening. _"Fred!"_ Lee shouted, frustrated, but there was still no response. So, Lee hit him. Hard.

"Wha - What the hell, Lee!" Fred burst out angrily, rubbing his jaw. He glared at him and looked like he was about to hit him back, but was startled out of his fury by Lee collapsing with relief.

"Oh thank God, Fred, you were scaring me," Lee told him, hand on his heart. "Please, hit me if you have to, but just stay _here,_ mate."

Fred blinked. He looked around him as if seeing everything for the first time. He rubbed his jaw again absent-mindly. "Thanks," he said, giving him a crooked smile. "If I ever get like that again, you have my permission to punch me out of it."

Lee snorted. "Like it would make a difference," he grinned, laughing with a lightened heart. But he sombered up a little and leaned forward. "Look, I know we're down a man, but we can still figure out a way to keep Umbridge off yours and George's back. But I can't do this alone."

Fred nodded. "Yeah...yeah, we can. We just have to figure out a way to distract her. Not distract her for an afternoon with fireworks, we need something to keep her occupied for a few days at least. It won't be enough to simply tell her Geor...he's okay," he said, faltering on his brother's name. But he pretended it didn't happen and ploughed forward. "We can't have Mr. Rikialria simply write a note, she'll try even harder then to prove otherwise. We need to get her focus off of the Hospital Wing, because she's bound to check here soon enough. Think...what does her sadistic little mind love to do?"

"Well, she loves toturing George or Harry," Lee snorted once more. "All we need is a couple of duplicates and we'll be set."

Fred's eyes widened. "Say that again," he said excitedly.

Lee corked up an eyebrow. "Mate, I was kidding..."

"No, it's perfect," he grinned widely. "We can get a couple of friends to take polyjuice potion! They just need to not get detention, but make Umbridge think that they're us, so she'll have no reason to come up here!"

"I see one giant flaw in your plan," Lee told him. "Polyjuice takes, what, a month to make? And that's if you do it correctly, and I'm not sure I trust you to brew a difficult potion successfully when the highest grade you've gotten in Potions was a 'Poor.' And _that_ was on that pink sludge you made at the beginning of the year while Snape was lenient."

Fred smirked and patted Lee's shoulder. "My dear Lee," he said dramatically. "Growing up as me, you begin to learn that anything is possible if you have enough nerve. And I, my friend, have enough nerve for the both of us."

Lee laughed. "Well, I guess I can muster up enough rationalism for the both of us, though, George was always better at stopping your craziness." He paused. "Or fueling it."

Fred made an odd expression, something between a smirk and a grimace. He looked back at George with a sad look. "Yeah. It's going to be...different without him along." He looked at Lee again. "It almost seems wrong."

"C'mon, mate, you know George would want you to get that toad good. And he'll get a kick out of it once he wakes up, you'll see," Lee said bracingly.

Fred looked pained at that, closing his eyes briefly, before shaking himself and saying, "All we need to do is pray that the old, greasy bat happens to have polyjuice potion in that nifty old storage of his."

"And if he doesn't?" Lee asked.

"Well, Lee, then we move on to Plan B."

"Which is?"

"We cage Umbridge in the Chamber of Secrets and run like hell."

* * *

><p>"This is mad," Lee muttered as the two crept around the corner, edging closer to Snape's potion cabinet. "Umbridge is Head Mistress, and Snape is most likely a Death Eater in disguise. And here we are, sneaking into Snape's potion storage to undermine the sadistic Head, with nothing more than a statue of a bird."<p>

"Will you shut it?" Fred hissed. "Merlin, _Ron_ could find us if you keep that up!"

"I'm just saying, I'm more of a set fireworks off and sneak Nifflers into people's classrooms kind of guy -"

"And I'm just saying _be quiet!"_ Fred snapped under his breath. "The point of sneaking, is to be _sneaky. _If you were supposed to make a lot of noise, they'd call it -"

"Noising?" Lee offered, smirking in amusement.

"Oh shut up, Jordan," Fred grumbled, annoyed. "Just hand me the bird."

Lee put the tiny bird in Fred's hand with skepticism, but kept his comments to himself. Fred tapped it with his wand, murmuring something Lee couldn't make out. But then Lee's mouth fell open as he watched the bird ruffle it's feathers and take off. "What the..."

Fred smirked. "It checks to see if anyone is close by. If it comes back red, well, we hide. If it comes back blue, we can go in."

Lee nodded. It took a few minutes, but the bird came zooming back, landing in Fred's outstretched hand. It was blue. "Good. Okay, let's go." The two crept into the room.

"Great, now what?" Lee asked.

Fred thought for a moment, and a sudden thought struck him. _"Invenire _Polyjuice potion," Fred said hopefully. He held his breath for a second, praying as hard as he could that luck would finally be on his side.

A light way up on the storage suddenly appeared, causing Fred to laugh in relief. "We're in luck, Lee," he beamed. He let the bird loose to do another round.

Lee was dumbfounded. "What on earth is that?"

"It's the Polyjuice potion," Fred replied, rolling his eyes. "I, erm, made it up. It's so we know where it is, and thank Merlin this greasy old git had some."

"Why does he, do you reckon?" Lee inquired.

Fred shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. Just as long as he has it."

The bird flew threw the room and landed on Fred's shoulder. It remained blue, much to Fred's relief. "Okay, erm..._Recupero_ Polyjuice potion," Fred said a bit uncertainly.

The bird shot upwards, circling their heads twice before charging forward, maneuvering its way in between closely placed viles artistically. Fred winked at Lee's seemingly permanent stunned visage. The bird, after a few moments, came back out, dropping the bottle of Polyjuice potion almost immediately; but Fred was prepared for it this time. He caught it and whistled for the bird to come down. He sent it back out to make sure they could escape without being seen.

"Mate, is there anything you or George can't think up?" Lee asked him, half amused, half serious.

Fred made a show of tapping his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Hmm...I doubt it." The bird came soaring back, remaining its vibrant blue. Fred tapped it with his wand, and it became stoic once more. "Let's go."

The two wizards snuck out, walking cautiously for a few minutes before they relaxed. "Go get whoever you can to play George and I," Fred whispered. "I'm going back up to the Hospital Wing." Lee nodded and they went their separate ways.

Fred broke out into a run, hurtling around each corner and taking the steps two at a time. He didn't stop until he skidded to a stop beside George's bed. The sight of seeing his twin motionless never failed to send a flash of pain through Fred's heart. He sat into his seat slowly, the excitement of his and Lee's mission fading away to be replaced by an aching sadness.

He wanted to shake him, shake him so hard he'd wake up. Fred knew he'd awake - Mr. Rikialria said so - but the way it felt now, having waited nearly a week, it seemed to Fred's anguished mind that George might never open his eyes. _That's rubbish,_ he scolded himself severely, mentally slapping himself. _Don't think like that, you know he will. Stop being a prat._ But it was easier to berate himself than to change his heart.

He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on the hand clutching the flask of Polyjuice potion. He let out a long breath, watching George's blankets rise and fall. Fred had said all he needed to over the course of the days, but he still felt like there was always something he forgot, something that was vitally important, yet he couldn't recall what it was. It ate at him every day, but he still had yet to remember what it was that he wanted to tell his unconscious brother that he wouldn't be able to hear anyways. It seemed silly to him now; why was he so hung up on it? George wouldn't know that he sat by his side every day, or talked to him just to keep himself sane. Fred grimaced. To George, these days would pass as quickly as a few minutes. To Fred, well, it took much longer.

It seemed silly to be upset after all this time; surely Fred should have gotten used to it by now? Surely he should be able to 'man up' and stop being so sappy...but it was physically impossible for Fred to leave. George was like a magnet, and Fred couldn't make himself pull away. And he couldn't stop the ache in his heart when he looked at his best friend and know that there was a possibility that he wouldn't turn out all right. Fred didn't know if he could take that, and it wasn't because he was worried that _his_ life would change. He was terrified about George and George alone, that George might be unable to speak, or see, or...remember anything. Remember Fred.

Fred bit his lip hard and sat up straight, glancing at the one window to the right of him, just above George's bed. It seemed almost disrespectful for the day to be so beautiful out. Fred had to remind himself that the rest of the world wasn't waiting in anticipation for one seventh year ginger to wake up like he was. In the grand scheme of things, whether George woke up fine or not was insignificant. But to his twin, it meant the world.

He stared at his hands and fiddled with his sleeves, every so often looking up at George's never changing face. Fred felt like there should be a handbook on this sort of thing. How were you supposed to handle this situation? What were you supposed to do? He figured he should prepare for the worst, but he couldn't bring himself to go down that track. After everything they had been through together, how could all that have been threatened just because of one bloody good-for-nothing Slytherin? It wasn't fair that Goyle or Malfoy had that kind of power. They _shouldn't_ have that kind of power, but in a way, everyone did. No one was cruel or demented enough to use it, but they could. And that was what sickened him.

Fred had been given a lot of time to think the past couple of days, and he kept going back to that Quidditch game. If only Fred had done something, pushed him out of the way. If only _he_ had gone after Harry instead. Fred would do anything to take George's place. If it had to be one of them to suffer, he wished with all his might it had been him.

He sat like that for some time, brooding and watching, lost in his own thoughts. But it wasn't long after Fred had arrived that Lee came bursting through the doors and nearly tripping over his own two feet as he lurched to a stop just before knocking Fred off his chair. "I got them," he grinned, slightly out of breath. Fred looked around his friend and found Angelina and Katie Bell behind him.

Fred corked up an eyebrow in surprise. "You want girls to play George and I?" he said skeptically. "How will that work?"

"C'mon, we've been around you two long enou -" Angelina began, but her voice faltered as her eyes landed on George. For the first time in her life, she was lost for words. She had no idea what had been going on with him, only that it must have been pretty bad because Fred always looked on guard, his stance protective and his eyes venomous if a person happened upon them at the wrong time. But it was the first time she had ever seen George - or Fred - in this kind of state. She'd seen them through Quidditch injuries, sure. But George looked very ill. And Fred looked almost deadened. It frightened her as to what that meant.

"What happened to him?" Katie suddenly asked, eyes wide. She was the first to regain her speech, but she too had been awfully stunned at the sight of her two friends.

Fred's wall immediately went up and he snapped automatically, "Nothing." There was a pause. "Sorry," he murmured, looking away. "Touchy subject."

The two didn't want to push, but they were dying of curiosity. But a single glance from Lee told them strictly not to. "So, erm, we'll be pretending to be you two?" Angelina asked, trying to ignore how her voice was slightly higher than normal.

"I suppose..." Fred said slowly, unsure.

"I think they can pull it off," Lee piped in earnestly. "Plus...they were the only people I could find." His face was a bit sheepish at the end.

"So I'm assuming every guy was in Azkaban, then?"

"Oh shut up," Angelina said, her normal attitude coming back. "We can do this. It's not like we're idiots or anything."

Fred grimaced, but otherwise nodded. "I guess we don't have much of a choice." Fred held out the Polyjuice potion, frowning slightly. "Does anyone have a cup or something?"

"A flask would probably be better to carry around," Katie said.

"Do you have one?"

"Erm...well, no -"

"Well, thanks for that," Fred rolled his eyes. Katie stuck her tongue out at him.

A sudden idea struck Lee at that moment as his eyes landed on a trolley of potions near Madam Pomfrey's office. "Why don't we empty a bottle or something?" he suggested. "We can shrink it so it'll be easy to carry around, and that way you can keep taking it every so often."

"Are we supposed to be permanently you two?" Angelina asked skeptically, eyeing the flask in Fred's hands. "Because I don't think that will last the two of us very long."

"No," Fred answered. "You just have to be us from time to time, preferably when Umbridge can spot you so she thinks George is..." he cleared his throat, "- fine."

"There should be enough for a little while if you spread it out thinly enough," Lee told them. He looked at Fred. "We just need your hair."

He nodded, reaching up and grabbing a few strands. He tugged and let out a yelp as they came loose. "Bloody hell," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head with the other hand as he gave Lee his hair.

"Baby," Angelina remarked. Fred gave her a mock glare.

"Should we take George's hair too?" Katie asked.

Fred frowned. "Why? We have the same DNA."

"Well, just to be safe..." Katie said unsurely.

Fred corked up an eyebrow. "Can _you_ tell us apart?" Katie shook her head. "Well, there you go."

Lee went over to Madam Pomfrey's trolley, glancing around so as to make sure she wouldn't come bursting through the door without him knowing. He snatched two nearly empty bottles and ran back. Without a word he opened the bottles and poured the liquids on the ground.

"Er..." Fred sounded, thinking that Lee might have gone off the deep end.

But after they were both empty, Lee pointed his wand and said, _"Terego."_ The puddles immediately disappeared.

"Oh...smart," Fred ended up saying.

Lee smirked. "Got it over quickly, didn't it?" He then pointed his wand in the bottles and cleaned those out too. "Okay...pour the Pol - er..." he suddenly got paranoid and looked around. "The, er, potion in."

Fred looked amused, but did as asked. He tried to fill both bottles as equally as possible and then added his hair to each one. Instantly, the liquid turned a deep red shade, like Fire Whiskey. Not that - ahem - Fred would know what Fire Whiskey looked like. But nevertheless, Fred found it fitting and grinned in almost pride. "Enjoy," he winked.

Angelina rolled her eyes and Katie laughed. "Better get going," Katie said as she capped her bottle and shrunk it a bit. They bade their fairwell and gave George one last sad, lingering glance before they departed. Out of the two of them, Angelina seemed the most upset.

Fred sighed in relief once they left, knowing that Umbridge would be taken care of. Plus...as much as he loved Angelina and Katie, he didn't like the extra people around. He wished he could have figured out a way to get rid of Umbridge for good, but it would at least be a small little victory if he could keep her away from them for a while. He leaned back in his chair, huffing out a breath and focusing on George once more. He remained like that for a while, and Lee tentatively pulled up a chair on the other side of the ginger in the bed. "How long do you think it'll take?" Fred suddenly asked him in a quiet tone, so different from his manner before. His eyes never left his brother.

Lee was slightly taken aback as Fred broke the silence, but inquired, "How long will what take?"

"I suppose it's more a question of which comes first," Fred muttered more to himself than Lee.

Lee was completely lost. "What are you talking about?"

But Fred was in his own little world right now. He chuckled without humour to himself. "I think I know the answer."

"The answer to _what?"_ Lee demanded.

Fred looked at him. "The answer to whether or not I'll go mad before George wakes up," he answered tonelessly, his eyes carrying a haunted look that Lee had never noticed before.

There was a moment of silence as Lee let his words crash over him. "Fred, you won't go mad," he told him determinedly. "Don't give up now. He's going to wake up, you _know_ that."

"Yeah, and how long do you think that'll take?" Fred asked him in a hard voice. "It's barely been a week, and this could last months."

"But he's going to _wake,"_ Lee almost implored. "He's not dead, Fred, just relax. There's no use getting all worked up about it -"

Fred glared at him viciously. "Don't tell me to relax," he snarled dangerously, his wand sparking.

"Okay," Lee said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender. "I just don't want you to drive yourself mental. Just...try to take it easy."

There are moments in life where some things seem to happen in slow motion. Technically speaking, time has never slowed, but your brain processes information faster than you ever believed possible, giving you that 'edited-movie' effect. This happened to be one of those times.

Fred opened his mouth to retaliate - probably with something either clever, witty, or hurtful; we'll never know. Because it was at that very moment, as his vocal chords prepared to vibrate out the sounds that would very quickly become words, a small, feeble groan made itself known to the world. Fred's lungs stopped cold and his eyes widened before Lee even registered that Fred had been about to speak.

He whipped his head back to the bed so fast he was pretty sure he'd have a permanent kink in his neck. Fred's eyes snapped to George's face, and he noticed the eyelids twitching, about to open. "Georgie?"

* * *

><p>Reviews are welcomed :)<p> 


	38. Piper to the End

**Author's Note: **So here we are! The last chapter is this rather lengthy story. :'( I'm going to miss it! This one's a bit short, but I hope it seems like a proper ending because, of course, when I was typing this and I just felt extremely productive, my computer decided to refresh itself -_- I lost the _entire_ chapter, which frustrated me to no end. But I think this one is pretty close to the original, so I'm happy with it :) I have learned to save every five seconds incase my laptop decides to pull this kind of stunt again :P But, moving on, I want to thank **Cristina Weasley, ****GeorgieForever, Spiralling-Down, Punzie the Platypus, melkyre, Jojo, DisgracedxMia**,**Aris1013**, **Blue Luver5000, BeingHannah923, stargirlak, mybryne, EricaX**, **Anonymous, Dimcairien, SolelyReader**, **DarthAbby**, **93 Diagon Alley, and Amanda**, **Centaur Watch, Amanda, Anonymous Reviewer, Native Ayako, Dark Calamity of Princess, Ziva Lou, hachoo**, **Yay for Yaoi**, **www. purtydino .org**, **GryffindorGrl97**, **chocolateMnMs**, **LunaLovegood2902, xTeionx, Bookwormiie**, ,**ForgeandGred7**, **ravenlovestwilight**, **SlytherinPotionBrewer**, **HideyoshiK**, **Amanda,** **Anonymous, BlueWolf65**, **cutietrp**, **tiara**, **.Happy**, **Shinan7**, **Moonlight900**, **Mischiefer, Ridwa**, **Moon-Princess-Serena1993**, **Mehehe**, **HappyIsWhatHappens**, **My-Toxic-Wings**, **romirola**, **Bookwormie**, **Cheetos234**, **MadCatta**, **Tezan**, **sashafrazzle**, **Mauraderfanwantspadfoot, weasleytwins4eva,SaphireEyedDancer, runeaglerun, Real Men Play Quidditch, MoMoHappy1, Dreamer-.-LNYX, and** **MyOwnPurpleWorld** for reviewing my story throughout its entirety. If I missed anyone I'm sorry!  
><strong><br>Disclaimer: **I own nothing that is copyrighted!  
><strong><br>Summary: **After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

**Rating:** K+

* * *

><p><em><strong>Once A Weasley<strong>_

'_This has been a day to die for,  
>Now the day is almost done,<br>Here the pipes will lay beside me,  
>Silent will the battle drum.<br>If friends in time be severed,  
>Someday here we will meet again.<br>I return to leave you never,  
>Be a piper to the end.'<br>_**~ 'Piper to the End,' Mark Knopfler**

"_Georgie?"_

There was a second's pause in which Fred's twin's name passed through his lips and Lee finally caught up with what was happening. A second's pause that held every unspoken question in Fred's mind, yet every question had a simple answer. Fred couldn't breathe, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. He was a little amazed that the beating organ didn't simply burst out of his chest.

George blearily opened his eyes, his vision fuzzy for a few moments before it corrected itself. _Well that's good at least,_ he dazedly thought, not understanding the significance of that simple fact. But then it hit him like a brick. George's face transformed into something akin to shock and his eyes, currently half-lidded, suddenly pinged open. He made all kinds of connections in the span of three seconds. His head felt bloody _fantastic._

George rolled his eyes quickly to his left and found a wide-eyed and bloodshot pair of blue irises staring back at him. Fred looked like he was fearfully awaiting for something. And George knew exactly what.

George gave a fond, crooked smile before he said what came naturally to him. "Wotcher, Fred." Perhaps it wasn't the intense, dramatic moment that they all had expected, but it did the trick.

Fred lost it then. He threw himself haphazardly on George, burying his face into the crook of George's neck and sobbed. His death grip made George positive that'd he have bruises later, but he didn't care. He grabbed Fred back and hugged him, patting his back as his own shirt got increasingly damp. George's eyes suddenly spotted another figure just a few feet away. Lee.

Lee's lower lip quivered until he launched himself at George as well, and for the first time this year, as well as George's friendship with him, Lee was crying. But depite the tears on his neck, George was grinning from ear to ear. His head felt great, his eyesight was obviously perfectly fine, and it was clear that his memory and ability to speak were still intact. Of course, that didn't mean he was scot-free, but was pretty damn near it at least.

Lee was the first to pull back after some time, but Fred, if possible, clutched on to George even tighter. He just couldn't believe it...it was over. All the notches that nearly claimed both George's life or Fred's sanity was all over. George was back.

Just as a dull ache began to brew in his lower back due to the odd angle at which his body was constricted in, George pried Fred as gently as possible off of him. However, when Fred looked at him with a mixture of confusion and embarrassment, George merely scooted over to one side and patted the spot beside him on the bed. Fred grinned and divebombed on to the mattress, nearly dislodging George althogether. He earned a laugh from his brother, though, so he was pleased with himself.

However, a sudden thought seemed to strike Lee as he jumped up and shouted, "Mr Rikialria!" before dashing out of sight. The twins, bemused, shook their heads in unison at them.

"Mental, that one is," Fred said in a dramatic, pitying way. George chortled at that.

Fred lost the humourous mood instantly as if planned, turning to look at his brother with a worried look. "Are you really alright?"

"I'm great," George grinned. "Honestly." Fred bit his lip, however, making George frown. "What is it?"

"I -" Fred started, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. He wanted to tell George how scared he still felt. Having lived in constant fear the entire year, it was hard to know that he didn't need to be so protective all of the time, that he _needn't_ worry. He was still afraid that something would happen to him, that one day George would be alive right next to him, and the next he was in a coma, or injured, or...dead. He began to tremble. Old habits die hard, and he figured this one would take a while. So instead he locked his eyes on to George's, relying on their uncanny sixth sense of one another to figure out what he meant.

George understood. He reached for him without a word and hugged him. Fred gripped the back of George's shirt tightly, resting his chin on George's shoulder. They stayed that way for some time before they parted, and as if it were a habit, Fred instantly tucked George into his side.

And that was how Mr. Rikialria and Lee found them when they skidded through the drapes around the bed. Mr. Rikialria's eyes were shining brightly as he looked upon the younger twin, a clipboard in his hands. "How are you feeling, Mr. Weasley?"

"Pretty good," George grinned.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, is that alright?" George nodded. "Do you feel any weakness in your muscles?"

George paused, flexing them. "Well, yeah," he admitted. "But I'm sure that's just because I've been out for...how long was I out for?"

"A week," Fred replied. He tried to sound nonchalant, but there was still a note of pain in his voice. George grimaced.

Mr. Rikialria nodded. "Do you have any pain?"

"Why don't you just wave your wand over him?" Lee asked.

"I have to know where it hurts to do the proper tests," Mr. Rikialria replied patiently. George shook his head in response to his question. Mr. Rikialria stepped closer and pointed his index finger towards the seeing while keeping his arm at George's eye level. His other fingers were curled inwards, and he said, "Follow my finger with your eyes only." He moved it left to right, up and down, and diagonal. George followed it with ease. "Okay, now I want you to count backwards from ten."

George's heart dropped and blanched. He searched his mind wildly for anything numerical, but came up blank. The younger twin began to panic and scrunched his face up in concentration. _Uh-oh. _"Er...ten...erm...tan, no, ten...er..." his face was a bit flushed with embarrassment. "I don't know."

Fred frowned, worried "Does that mean anything?"

"Let me finish, and then I'll be able to tell you," Mr. Rikialria responded. He turned his attention back to George. "Can you stand for me?"

But Fred gripped George and held him in place. "He just woke up," he said in a hard voice.

"I just need to check his balance," Mr. Rikialria said in a soothing voice.

Fred looked like he was about to snap at him, his grip tightening, but George said in a slightly exasperated voice, "Fred, I'm just standing. I'll be doing a lot of that in my life. If I start imitating a centaur, that's weird, hold me down for that."

Fred laughed despite himself. George wriggled out of Fred's hold and got a bit unsteadily to his feet. Fred was by his side in seconds, seeming prepared to grab George at any moment should he stumble.

"Fred, I'm going to have to ask you to step away," the Healer said. "I have to see how balanced he is on his own."

Fred opened his mouth to protest vehemently, but George shot him a sharp look. It seemed that George no longer needed a protector, a fact that Fred found oddly depressing. George might be able to switch it off, but Fred was left _needing_ to protect him. As he stepped away, he found himself inwardly flailing for his new role in George's life. Fred couldn't just get rid of his worry; so what was he supposed to do?

Lee sensed his distress and patted him on the shoulder. George was a little wobbly at first, but he seemed to gain his bearings. Mr. Rikialria had him do a series of tests, including standing on each foot and walking in a straight line. But his balance seemed fine.

George lay back on the bed and Mr. Rikialria pulled out his wand. "What are you doing?" Fred asked, eyeing the wand warily.

"Fred," George said rolling his eyes in an exasperated way.

"I'm just running a check," Mr. Rikialria explained. "He seems to have trouble with simple math."

Fred bit his lip and watced George avidly. It lasted for a few moments, and Mr. Rikialria didn't seem overall too concerned. "Well, this is far better than I expected," he said cheerfully. "There was a small complication, however. A part of George's brain has been damaged, which explains why he couldn't remember the numbers. It seems that George won't be able to do math, but all things considering, this is great news."

George frowned immediately, and a glance at his twin convinced him that they were thinking the same thing; their products for their shop. "So I can't measure things or do potions or anything like that?"

Mr. Rikialria shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"Is it in anyway possible for me to just relearn it?"

"It is not your memory that is the problem," Mr. Rikialria replied. "The part of your brain that was damaged involved the _understanding_ of mathematics. You can memorize the numbers, sure. But your ability to comprehend it, to understand how to use it, won't be possible. You can know that two plus two equals four, but you won't be able to understand _why_ and put it into practice."

"Oh," George said, looking disappointed. But he forged on with new determination, seeming to forget about that small factor altogether, and asked, "What about doing spells? Can I still do that? Am I able to still invent things?"

"Those should be fine," Mr. Rikialria said slowly. "What will you be inventing?"

"Nothing," George said smoothly, shrugging. "Fred and I are more on the...creative side. It's more just about the principle of the thing."

"Ah," the Healer smirked. "Well, I still want you to remain in here overnight. I'll be back to check on you in a bit."

George nodded, and Mr. Rikialria left. "Are you okay?" Fred asked anxiously.

George waved his hand. "Fine, fine. Though the math thing was right depressing."

"Sorry about that, mate," Lee said sympathetically. "But I suppose that's what Fred's for..." he paused. "On second thought, you should still do that."

George grinned, and Fred chucked a pillow at him. "That reminds me!" Lee suddenly said. "I have to go get the 'welcoming committee.'"

"Why did a pillow in the face remind you of that?" George asked, amused.

Lee shrugged. "I dunno. But Madam Pomfrey's going to hate me after this," he smirked, sounding oddly triumphant at the fact."

"So, it looks like we're back in business," George grinned, looking at Fred.

Fred waved his hand. "I would've continued it even if you were drooling in the corner."

George laughed and smacked his shoulder. "Prat. You know I'm the brains behind it all."

"Sure, Georgie, whatever helps you sleep at night."

George groaned, flopping back on to his pillow and looked up at a beaming Fred. "You're going to be a real pain in the arse to work with, aren't you?" he asked in a mock serious voice despite the smirk on his face.

"You know it."

"You know, Fred," George suddenly remarked, "If I remember correctly, aren't NEWTS in a few days?"

Fred snorted. "For other people, maybe."

But then he got his trademark mischievous look in his eyes as an ingenius idea struck him. If Umbridge thought she could have a nice peaceful school after all the crap she'd done, she was sorely mistaken. They might not have enough time to plot something to get her removed from the school, but perhaps they could pave the way for other mischief makers to do it. He shared a delightfully evil look with his twin. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, dear brother o' mine?"

Sometimes an arched eyebrow is worth a thousand words.

_The End_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Side Note: <strong>And as they say, the rest is history! I also just want to clear this up for anyone who wondered why I put George in a coma. Honestly, I actually hadn't planned on it at first, but it was more of ending technique. :P If I could have ended the story within a few chapters _without_ George falling into a coma, I would. But I felt like this kind of injury would take a long time to heal just using the meetings he had with Mr. Rikialria, and I couldn't go on for another thirty chapters. This way I could end it without boring anyone too badly :P

**Seasonal Dreamer** bids you all a farewell until a new inspiration strikes.

_Mischief managed._


	39. IMPORTANT NOTICE

DON'T PANIC.

If you don't remember favouriting and/or following me, you're not going crazy. You've just done so while I was under a different name.

I'm still the same author; my name has just been changed. Why, you ask? Well, it's a bit of a funny story.

You see, some 'followers' I guess you can call them have added me on Facebook, and I'm not discrediting that; I love talking to you guys. But being the fool that I was and using my real name as my (former) username, some have abused the faith I put in you guys. For the past little while, I've been getting an alarming amount of messages on my Facebook from people who really didn't become my friend to talk about writing 'so to speak.' All the people who have done this have been blocked and unfriended and all that (if you haven't been blocked, then don't worry about this; we're still friends!), but I'm forced to change my name.

Unfortunately, in nearly all of my stories (if not all) I have listed my (former) username, so starting TOMORROW MAY 1ST I am going to be reuploading all of my stories with the changed name listed. Don't worry; nothing else will be changed, and any stories that you favourited/followed should still be accessible to you. But sadly, I'm afraid that all of your lovely reviews might be erased Please don't feel the need to re-review them, but if you are so inclined, they will always be appreciated.

And I must ask to any of you that are my friends on Facebook that I haven't blocked, PLEASE do not talk about any of my stories on my wall. Inbox me instead. I must be strict about this; starting tomorrow, if I find any comments regarding my works, they will be deleted. If you persist, I'm afraid you will also be unfriended and/or blocked.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience to the people who have been nothing but kind to me.

I'll be posting this notice in all of my stories as well as on my profile.


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